


Thundercracker's Glory

by Kenyastarflight



Series: Glory's Tales [3]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Because I felt like giving robots families, Family Drama, Family Shenanigans, Gen, Transformer Sparklings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-02-23 07:49:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 80,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23841457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kenyastarflight/pseuds/Kenyastarflight
Summary: Thundercracker's life is turned upside-down when he's entrusted with the care of his orphaned niece, Glory, and must raise her on the Nemesis.  The story that started it all...  Originally posted on FFN in 2007 (!), reposted here.
Series: Glory's Tales [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717957
Comments: 10
Kudos: 15





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So... after a lot of advice from friends and readers, I've decided to bite the bullet and start cross-posting my fanfics to this site! As a consequence, some of these are going to be REALLY old fics, so... be gentle? I'm cross-posting them without going back and editing, so there will be some cringe in places. Be nice, please...
> 
> "Thundercracker's Glory" was my very first non-crossover TF fic (I'd previously written a Transformers/Pixar's Cars crossover which is of... questionable quality), and it kickstarted my bizarre love of Transformer children for some reason. Glory's story now spans three multi-chapter fics and several one-shots, and I'll slowly work on getting them transferred here, a few chapters at a time.
> 
> Also, the Windblade in this story is NOT the same Windblade as the one in the IDW comics! This Windblade is a Decepticon OC who predates the canon Windblade by several years. And yes, I'm a tiny bit miffed that Hasbro hijacked my OC's name, though I do love the canon Windblade too.
> 
> Enjoy. Or at least don't throw too many rocks...

It was sound that returned first - the groan of the ruined building settling around her, the sizzle of ripped wiring and circuitry, the hiss of air cycling through her own vents. Her audials, still partially stunned from the terrible rending explosion that had knocked her offline to begin with, tingled with pain as they received the new sounds, making her cranial shell throb. That pain only made her aware of other pains throughout her body - scratches and dents the blast had inflicted upon her, and a painful weight on her left leg.

Cautiously she flicked on her optics, and their faint glow played upon the plating of her own arm, a battered but functional appendage that lay stretched out upon a bed of splintered metal and snarled wires. Beyond that arm lay a ragged slab of what had once been the wall of the workshop, a portion of a scrawled equation still visible upon its surface.

A faint whining registered on her audials, making her shrink back from the wall. Then she realized the noise was coming from her own vocalizer.

"Mommy?" she whimpered. "Daddy? Where are you?"

The only reply was a rumbling crunch as another portion of the workshop collapsed, showering her with sparks and shrapnel. She cried out and flung her arms over her head to shield herself. Air was pulsing through her vents in great gasps now, her cooling system kicked into overdrive by her panic. Where were her creators? The last she had seen of them was her father's chestplate as he tackled her to the floor, shoving her out of the path of a blazing ribbon of gunfire...

"Help! Somebody help me!" She scrambled to her hands and knees, but could go no further than that. A heavy support beam crushed her left leg halfway up the calf, trapping her. She kicked at the beam with her free leg ineffectually, shouting for her parents all the while. Where were they, why weren't they here for her now...

The ruined wall in front of her shifted, and light streamed down upon her as a powerful arm flung it aside. Her optics stabbed with pain before cutting their power down to prevent damage from the sudden flood of light.

"What's this?" That wasn't her father. She shrank back, whimpering, holding her arms up as if they would block off an attacker. They'd come back for her, they'd blow her up like they had Daddy's lab assistants, they'd melt her down into slag without a second thought...

"She's alive!" came another voice. "If she survived, the scientists might have too..."

The support beam lifted, and a set of hands grabbed her beneath the arms and hefted her into the air. She struggled against the mech's grip, screaming, her fists clanging against his chestplate and her feet ringing against his thighs.

"Primus, she packs a punch," her captor muttered. "Hey, cool it, little one, it's all right... you're safe, no one's gonna hurt you..."

Her hands fell on something smooth and curved... a cockpit? Her thrashing ceased as she pulled away from the broad chest to look at the mech's face. Scarlet eyes regarded her from within a dark-helmed face, and sleek wings jutted from his broad shoulders like a cyberhawk. A Seeker! Relief flooded her systems, and she buried her face in his chest and held tightly to him.

"A child," the first mech noted, sounding disappointed. "We get spark-readings from the ruins, and it's a child. I thought it was one of the scientists..."

"What are you saying? That she'd be better off dead? One live Decepticon's good enough for me, whether or not it's a scientist." The Seeker patted her back with a broad hand. "You all right, little one? Where's your creators?"

She tried to answer, but her vocalizer stuttered, and she only tucked her face in the crook of his neck and shoulder and cried.

* * *

There were certain facts regarding life in the Decepticon's base on Earth that you just didn't question. They were never written down, never even really discussed, but everyone accepted them as truth nevertheless. A prime example would be that for every action of Starscream's, especially if it involved an attempted coup or a sarcastic aside, there was an equal or (more often) greater and opposite reaction from Megatron, usually ending up with Starscream paying Hook a visit once said reaction was over. Another example - inevitably after a battle, no matter the outcome, you could expect a monologue from Dead End regarding the pointlessness of the entire Autobot/Decepticon battle and how everyone was just going to end up fodder for rust mites anyhow, a monologue that Motormaster preferred to cut off by means of a sharp blow to the head.

The most important unspoken yet irrefutable truth - you kept Skywarp busy at all times. No matter the circumstances, no one wanted a bored Skywarp on their hands. A bored Skywarp quickly became an inventive Skywarp, and an inventive Skywarp was nothing short of an extremely dangerous - not to mention irritating - Skywarp.

Unfortunately, today the Decepticons had let themselves forget this truth and left the Seeker to his own devices. Granted, they had other things on their CPUs - they had suffered a brutally humiliating defeat at the hands of Prime's forces, and over half of the troops were languishing in the repair bay with various injuries. The Decepticon Air Commander might have done something to curb Skywarp's boredom, but he was currently on the receiving end of Megatron's wrath as the Decepticon Leader vented his rage at Starscream's grasp for power that had once again led to their defeat. And Thundercracker, who could normally be counted on to keep Skywarp occupied at times like this, had been drafted into orderly-work by Hook and the Constructicons, playing fetch-and-carry as they worked on getting the wounded back on their feet.

So Skywarp was bored... and decided to do something about it for himself.

 _Primus, TC, the Autobot brig's cheerier than your room,_ he thought as he slipped into his fellow Seeker's recharge quarters, having a look around. Apart from the recharge berth and his personal computer console, the room was barren. There were a few datapads on the berth - bookfiles, from the look of it - but no other signs of personal affects.

He snorted and went to the computer. Ah well. If Thundercracker wanted to be a dullard, that was his problem. But maybe Skywarp could at least liven his computer up. He'd already gotten the Coneheads' computers - they would come back from repair bay to find the Dancing Banana on their consoles with no way to shut him up. Now it was Thundercracker's turn.

"Come up with something more creative than CYBERTRON for your password," he muttered to himself, and he popped a disc in and set to work on installing the program. While waiting for the information to transfer, he decided to poke around and see what he could find. Thundercracker spent a lot of time on his computer during his off time; what was so slagging interesting anyhow...

 _Sweet, he's got the World of Warcraft expansion pack!_ he noted, grinning. No wonder he spent most of his spare time in here. He made a mental note to look into the game the next chance he got.

A few picture files caught his attention, and he opened the folder to have a look. What sort of images would Thundercracker keep on his computer...

Huh. Not what he was expecting. The first picture was of a couple of kids - sparklings that didn't even have alt forms or proper weapons yet. A mech and a femme from the look of it, play-wrestling on the floor, with the femme holding her opponent in a loose headlock and laughing all the while. The boy, despite his position, was grinning from audial to audial... and Skywarp realized he'd seen that grin before, though the owner of that grin rarely showed it anymore...

He flipped to the next picture. Again the two sparklings, this time posing for the camera somewhat more sedately - if you ignored the fingers the femme was holding up behind the young Thundercracker's head like a set of horns or the ears of an Earth rabbit.

The next image was unmistakably the same two Transformers, despite the fact that their sparks were no longer housed in the body shells of children, but the powerful bodies of Decepticon Seekers. Thundercracker was now the deep-blue-and-silver Seeker Skywarp was familiar with, but he wore that same smile the boy had. And the femme... she was beautiful. Emerald green and silver, with the slender build and slightly narrower wings typical of femme Seekers, she had a disarming smile and a mischevious glint to her optics that her younger self had shared. Skywarp wondered how he could wrangle more information on her out of Thundercracker without making it obvious he'd been snooping in his files.

More images of the two... standing at stiff attention but wearing slight smiles of excitement at an Academy graduation... in Cybertronian jet mode spiraling through the sky... Thundercracker showing off his Decepticon decals for the camera, blissfully unaware of the evilly-grinning femme posed behind him with a bucket of oil...

The last image was obviously taken at a bonding ceremony, and for the first time a third mech was included - a blocky teal-and-white Decepticon with a scarlet visor over his optics and what appeared to be tank treads on his shoulders. The femme leaned against this new mech with a tender smile, an action the tank didn't seem at all displeased with. Thundercracker stood on the femme's other side, looking pleased at this course of events. Skywarp snorted. Fool. If Thundercracker had possessed any sense, he would have chased the tank-mech off long ago and claimed the femme for himself, not let her be bonded to a ground-bound behemouth...

 _Don't be an idiot,_ he told himself. _Isn't it obvious who she is? If they spent this much time together as sparklings..._

"Get out."

He whirled to see Thundercracker standing in the doorway, arms folded across his cockpit. No bright smile that had been so evident in the pictures graced his face now - in fact, he looked ready to dismantle someone piece by piece. Someone like Skywarp...

"Hey TC, didn't mean to..." he protested, holding up his hands.

"GET OUT!"

Skywarp flinched a little at Thundercracker's roar. "Um... I can't really get out when you're blocking the doorway..."

With a snarl and a rare show of temper Thundercracker stormed forward, grabbing Skywarp by the wings and jerking him out of the chair.

"Hey!" Skywarp yelped as the blue jet hauled him across the room and practically threw him out the door. "Hey, what's her name?"

Thundercracker glared, and Skywarp wanted to kick himself. He hadn't meant for that last to slip out...

"Stay out of my room," the blue Seeker snarled. "And stay the slag away from my files, too." And the door hissed shut.

Skywarp stared at the closed door for a long while, still trying to process everything he had seen. He guessed he shouldn't have been that surprised - Thundercracker never talked about any friends or relatives back on Cybertron, and whenever the subject came up he tended to shy away from it. But still, for some reason it floored Skywarp to know his wingmate had... a sister.


	2. Windblade

A small part of her CPU was taken up with wondering how it was possible to be surrounded by mechs, yet still feel so alone. As she sat on the cold bench in the Decepticon medical center, kicking her feet anxiously, medics and aides and the walking wounded rushed past her in all directions, their optics looking straight past her as if she were a hologram. That wondering portion of her mind wanted to pretend she was sitting, not on the bench, but back in her room watching the traffic roar past her window in endless waves, moving all around her without actually touching her...

But the rest of her CPU seethed with painful memories and unanswered questions, drowning out any attempt at escape, however imaginary. Images of the ruined laboratory, the glowing streaks of laser fire, of her creators' mangled shells being dragged out of the rubble, all flashed before her optics and made her shiver. No, she didn't want to think about that... but the harder she tried not to, the more the memories forced themselves to the surface...

A trio of mechs gathered close by, whispering amongst themselves and occasionally firing a quick glance at her. She strained to hear and understand what they were saying.

"...no records as to her identity in the labs," the first mech, the Seeker who had rescued her, reported. "And she doesn't have any ID."

"Didn't it occur to you to ask her name?" inquired the medic, a bulky gunmetal-gray figure who obviously transformed into an armored support vehicle of some sort.

"I asked several times," the Seeker reported. "She wouldn't answer."

"What do you mean 'wouldn't answer?'" the medic asked crisply. "Unless her vocalizer was damaged in the attack - and according to the scans I performed, it's in perfect working order..."

"Cut her a little slack," the Seeker retorted. "She's just been through an Autobot attack. Of course she's going to be traumatized."

"Traumatized or not, it's imperitive that we confirm her identity as quickly as possible," the third, an intimidating violet mech with a single amber photoreceptor, informed the others. "If she has living relatives, we will entrust them with her custody. Otherwise, we will place her in a foundling home."

The Seeker snorted through his vents, obviously not having a very high opinion of foundling homes, whatever those were.

"Well, what portion of the lab did you find her in?" demanded the medic. "Who was working there at the time of the attack?"

"The east wing, chemical-weapon research," the Seeker replied. "I don't know what scientists work there, though..."

"Chemical Engineer Piston," the violet mech provided. "He was in charge of a project dedicated to the research and production of metal corrosives. Apart from his bondmate and a few assistants, he worked alone."

"Piston?" repeated the medic in a disdainful tone. "I didn't know that waste of scrap metal had a bondmate."

"Primus," the Seeker murmured. "We pulled a scientist and a femme out of the rubble. That must have been the girl's creators."

The violet mech nodded, obviously having drawn the same conclusion. "Keep the femme here for the night. I will inquire as to any remaining family Piston or his bondmate might have and find out if they can take her into their custody."

"Keep her here?" protested the medic. "This is a repair bay, not a hotel..."

"That is an order," the violet mech barked, and he strode off.

The medic glowered at the Seeker. "Keep her out of trouble. You found her, you can deal with her." He stalked in the direction of the operating room.

The Seeker turned around and seemed to spot her for the first time. An odd, sad smile passed over his face, and he crossed the busy lobby to stand before her. "You okay, kid?"

She just stared back. No, she wasn't okay, but for some reason she didn't want to tell him that. She didn't want to say anything - she just wanted to run back to the lab and jump into her mother's arms, never mind that she knew that was no longer possible...

"Come on, you can trust me," the Seeker prompted. "What's your name?"

She let her gaze drop to his shinguards, hoping he'd stop asking her questions and leave her alone.

"Look, I have something for you." He reached up and pulled something out of subspace, handing it to her. "Found it close by when we rescued you. Is it yours?"

She looked up to see a familiar object in the mech's hands, and despite herself she smiled. It was Dragon! She snatched the toy cyberdragon from the Seeker's grip and clutched it tightly, as if it were a lifeline.

The Seeker chuckled. "I take it that's a yes." He extended his hand. "C'mon, we'll find you someplace to spend the night."

Reluctantly she slid off the bench and trailed after him. She still had no idea what he or the others intended to do with her... but somehow she trusted him. He had rescued her; he couldn't be bad. Not like the mechs who had destroyed the workshop and...

She shuddered and quickened her pace to follow the Seeker.

* * *

The Decepticon common room buzzed with the usual activity and conversation as Megatron's forces received their morning energy alottments and prepared to start the day, exchanging gossip or discussing duty rosters or rehashing the latest battle all the while. The Stunticons had clustered together in one corner to sulk, hunching gloomily over their cubes like giant metallic gargoyles; doubtless they were still sour over taking a heavy beating from Superion during the skirmish. Astrotrain and Blitzwing were laughing and talking boisterously as they leaned back in their seats, feet propped up on the table as they compared scuffs and dents acquired from the fighting. Soundwave took his usual solitary seat in the back, watching with no sign of irritation or amusement as Rumble and Frenzy did their level best to annoy Dirge a few tables over. The dark blue jet wasn't reacting, but everyone figured it was only a matter of time before endless renditions of Madonna's "Vogue" did the trick - Swindle even had a betting pool going over how many repetitions it would take for Dirge to crack. Only Starscream and Hook were absent, and this was quickly explained by the rest of the Constructicons as they related far too eagerly just how badly Megatron had pummeled his Air Commander for insubordinance this time.

Thundercracker stared into the dregs of his own cube, idly swishing the remaining energon around. The myriad conversations buzzing around the room seemed to wash right over him without sinking into his CPU. Normally he would at least seek out Skywarp, as his fellow jet could be counted on for halfway interesting, though not necessarily intelligent, conversation. But today the black-and-violet Seeker was the last mech he wanted to see.

He sighed and downed the last of his energon. He supposed he hadn't much of a right to be upset. True, Skywarp had broken into his quarters, but then, that was a frequent occurence. Hacking into his computer was a somewhat more serious offense, but it had happened before. The only thing he'd really done seriously wrong had been accessing those image files...

And therein lay the whole problem. Thundercracker was intensely private by nature. He didn't like his past being flouted around. And when Skywarp got wind of any sort of information, it tended to become fodder for the gossip mill very quickly. The mech simply couldn't keep his vocalizer quiet. Thundercracker wouldn't be surprised to hear that everyone from Megatron down to the maintenance drones now knew exactly what Skywarp had seen...

"TC, what's up?"

He looked up to see Skywarp plunk himself down in the seat across from him, holding a full cube and grinning.

"What do you want?" Thundercracker grumbled.

Skywarp's hopeful grin faded a little. "You looked kinda lonesome over here. Figured you'd want company."

Thundercracker glowered at the black jet, causing the smile to vanish entirely.

"You're not still mad about the computer thing, are you..."

"What do you think?" snapped Thundercracker. "I don't go digging around in YOUR files. What makes you think mine are free game?"

"Look, TC, I'm sorry about that, all right? I wouldn't have looked if I'd known they were private. If you labeled them..."

"Right," Thundercracker replied sarcastically. "I know how your CPU works. You read 'Private' or 'Keep Out' and your processor translates it to 'Hey, look at me!'" He pushed his empty cube to the side and got ready to stand.

"Who is she, anyhow?" Skywarp asked. "And why are you so worked up over me seeing her? She's not wanted or anything, is she?"

Thundercracker narrowed his optics. What business was it of Skywarp's anyhow? If he'd wanted him to know every sordid detail of his past, he fragging well would have told him. And besides, he didn't pry into Skywarp's personal life. What gave Skywarp the right to go digging through his past?

But if he didn't tell Skywarp, he would just pester him relentlessly until his resolve crumbled. Either that or tell Starscream, who would assume the blue Seeker was hiding vital intelligence and haul his aft before Megatron for questioning. Well, better to tell Skywarp now in a relatively calm, private setting rather than in a hysterical rage or in front of his commander...

"Windblade," he admitted quietly, settling back down in his seat. "Her name's Windblade."

"Ah." Skywarp pulled another energon cube out of subspace and pushed it toward him. "Family?"

"Yeah." He accepted the cube and took a sip before continuing. "Co-creation."

"Sister," Skywarp corrected, his smile returning a little. The black jet had never been one to stick to the "correct" Cybertronian terms for family units. "Twin?"

"No, she's a vorn and a half older than me," Thundercracker replied. "We were still pretty close as kids, though."

"She single?" Skywarp's smile turned eager.

"Nope. Found herself a scientist named Piston right before I took off on the Nemesis. Last I heard, they're still happily bonded."

"Slaggit." Skywarp downed half his cube. "What's she like? From what I saw in the pictures, she's a crackup."

"She can be," Thundercracker replied. "She loves practical jokes. She could give you a run for your energon, I'm sure. And she isn't much into typical femme things, either. The humans would call her a 'tomboy.'"

"Sounds like my kind of femme." Skywarp thought a moment. "What was up with you and the oil?"

Despite himself, Thundercracker laughed. "Oh, that picture. I'd just joined the army and gotten my decals. I was so proud of those things and was always showing them off. Apparently she decided I needed my ego deflated."

"There wasn't by chance an 'after' shot of that incident, was there?"

"There was, but I destroyed it."

"Pity. Could have made great blackmail material. What's she up to now?"

"Well..." Here he felt a reluctance to continue, but something made him press on. "We both joined the Decepticon Army, of course, but she didn't want to fight on the front lines. Megatron wanted Seekers, though, so it looked like she didn't have a choice. Then she met and fell in love with Piston, and they got bonded. They weren't allowing bonded mechs into the fighting at that point, so she ended up on the home front helping develop weaponry... and I ended up here."

Skywarp smirked. "Bonded 'Cons couldn't fight? Sounds like an incentive to stay single to me."

Thundercracker regarded his half-finished energon wistfully. "In a way... I wish she hadn't gotten bonded. I would have liked her to be here. As it is, we rarely communicate anymore..."

Both mechs looked up sharply as tiny footsteps on the tabletop cut into the conversation. Frenzy marched straight up to Thundercracker and craned his neck to look him in the optics.

"Megatron says get your aft in the control room," the cassette reported. "There's a communication from Cybertron for you."

"Speak of the Unmaker," Skywarp noted.

"From Cybertron?" repeated Thundercracker. "What about?"

"Slag me if I know," Frenzy replied with a shrug. "I don't make the news, I just deliver it."

Thundercracker stood. "See you on patrol later."

"If it's you-know-who, let me know all the details!" Skywarp shouted at him. A few 'Cons looked up at the shout with puzzled expressions, but none inquired further.

Thundercracker wasn't sure what to expect, but he still received a shock when he entered the control room to find not just Soundwave present (the blue mech must have slipped out of the common room while he wasn't looking), but Megatron and a slightly battered Starscream as well. He wondered at that as he came to a stop before the Decepticon leader and saluted. He had never received a personal call from Cybertron, and he couldn't for the life of him think of any reason why such a communication would be warranted. It wasn't as if he was an especially important soldier, after all.

"You sent for me, sir?" was all he said.

"You have a message from Cybertron," Megatron informed him. His voice harbored no satisfaction, but yet there was no anger either. That was some relief right there - Megatron was quite unpredictable when angry, and more so when something pleased him.

"Um... all right." He turned to Soundwave. "Go ahead and put it through."

Soundwave activated a screen, showing the boxy one-opticed head of Shockwave, Megatron's lackey back on Cybertron. "Decepticon Seeker Thundercracker?"

"Right here."

"Co-creation of Decepticon Seeker and Scientist Windblade?"

His systems quivered despite himself. "Yeah, why?"

Shockwave's tone didn't change one iota as he delivered the news. "Your co-creation and her bondmate, Decepticon Scientist Piston, were killed in an Autobot attack on the Polyhex labs."

A close observer would have seen Thundercracker's entire frame jolt with a sudden but mercifully brief shudder. He opened his mouth, but it took him a moment to kick his vocalizer back into gear. "What?"

"The Autobots attacked the Polyhex labs," Shockwave explained. "Specifically the chemical-warfare wing. Information is incomplete, but the most probable explanation for the attack would have been an attempt to halt the creation of new metal-corrosives. All scientists and laboratory assistants were killed in the battle."

Thundercracker planted both hands on the console and leaned against it for a moment, suddenly not trusting himself to stand unaided. _His sister..._

"This is very sad news," Starscream noted, his rasp dripping with sarcasm, "but why did we need to be present to hear this? Thundercracker doesn't need us for moral support..."

"Shut up, Starscream," Megatron snarled. "Don't you think you've pushed your luck far enough today?"

The red-and-white seeker snarled but subsided.

"Further information," Shockwave reported. "One survivor was found in the ruins."

"You said no one survived the attack!" Starscream protested.

"No scientists or assistants," Shockwave corrected. "The survivor was a sparkling. A child. Piston and Windblade's creation."

The metal of the console crumpled under Thundercracker's fingers as he involuntarily clenched them in shock. His sister had never told him she and Piston had created a child together!

"As the last surviving member of the sparkling's family unit, Thundercracker is the most logical candidate as her new provider," Shockwave finished. "If he is willing, that is..."

"Her?" repeated Thundercracker. "It's a femme?"

"A femme," Shockwave replied. "Records show her given name as Glory."

Glory... Windblade and Piston had a daughter... a daughter named Glory...

"You're saying you want Thundercracker to adopt this kid?" Starscream demanded. "This is the Decepticon base, not a daycare center! Stick her in a foundling home or..."

Megatron quieted Starscream's ranting by means of a backhand that Thundercracker swore could have been heard in the common room. Then he turned back to the screen and addressed Shockwave. "Report back in one Earth hour, Shockwave. Thundercracker will have an answer for you then."

Shockwave nodded, and the screen blanked out.

"Starscream, get out of my sight," Megatron ordered. "Soundwave, you are dismissed."

The two mechs left the room, Starscream growling as he nursed his dented jaw.

"You." Megatron pointed at Thundercracker. "Your decision?"

"What do you mean?" Thundercracker asked, not without some degree of dread. Megatron rarely addressed him except to deliver an order.

"Precisely what I said," Megatron repeated. "What are your intentions regarding the sparkling?"

Thundercracker looked down at the floor plating, trying to sort through his thoughts and come up with something intelligent to say. He wanted to be able to think about this logically, to weigh the pros and cons in his mind and come up with a viable solution that way, but he couldn't. He was still struggling to wrap his CPU around the thought that Windblade was gone... dead... her spark extinguished... He forced that out of his mind, it would do him no good, it wouldn't help him answer his commander's question...

"I don't know," he finally admitted, looking up.

Megatron gave him an expressionless stare, arms folded across his chestplate. Thundercracker stared back, unsure. What exactly did his commander want of him? Was he expecting him to turn Glory away? The Decepticon base was no place for a child, after all. And besides, if Thundercracker admitted to wanting to take custody of her, it could very well make Megatron decide that he was too soft-sparked to remain a Decepticon soldier.

And yet... if he said no, what would he really be proving? That he was too macho, too sparkless, to extend aid to a child - one that shared part of his own programming, however distantly? Somehow the thought of that sickened him. And he knew it would be a disgrace to his sister if he refused aid to her daughter.

"We don't have the facilities for her," Thundercracker told Megatron, though he wondered if he was trying to rationalize things to the leader or to himself. "Starscream was right there - this base wasn't designed with a sparkling in mind. And I'm still a soldier, I still have battles to fight..."

"Arrangements can be made, Thundercracker, and you know it," Megatron cut in. "Don't make excuses. Make a decision."

He steeled himself. "I have no choice. Windblade is... was my sister. She would have wanted me to take care of her daughter for her."

Megatron nodded once. "Then I will inform Shockwave. You're dismissed."

Thundercracker's optics flickered in a stunned blink. "That's it? You're not going to..."

Megatron's optics narrowed slightly. "I am aware I have a reputation, Thundercracker - among the Autobots and Decepticons alike. They call me sparkless, the Great Slagmaker, a tyrant and monster. They are perfectly correct. The glory of the Decepticon Empire goes before all else, including the lives of individual mechs. And that is part of the reason why I have no objections to you taking custody of the child. Decepticon femmes are rare enough, and those that we have are defecting to the Autobots right and left. It is in the best interests of the Empire that we put forth the effort to keep this one in our ranks."

To Thundercracker's shock, Megatron stepped forward and placed an ebony hand on his shoulder. "I am leader of the Decepticons. As such I do not have the luxury that you do to mourn those that have given their lives for our cause. Your sister died to ensure our eventual victory. Honor her sacrifice well." He lowered his hand. "You are excused from patrol today."

"Yes, sir," was all he could manage through his haze of shock.

"Dismissed," Megatron ordered.

Thundercracker ducked out of the control room and made a beeline for his quarters, still struggling to process everything. Windblade dead, himself an uncle, a child being placed in his care, Megatron even allowing that to occur in the first place... His world seemed determined to spin itself apart, and he felt powerless to stop it.


	3. Sparkling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, if you all can just happily ignore the reference to "wife husbandry," as TV Tropes calls it, in this chapter, that'll be great... This fic is over a decade old, it's gonna have some "what the Pit was I thinking" moments...

"No way!" Skywarp guffawed, leaning against the doorframe of Thundercracker's quarters. "No slaggin' way! You, in charge of a sparkling?"

Thundercracker ignored the black Seeker, concentrating on assembling the small recharge bunk. He had no idea how Swindle had managed to get ahold of the thing, but seeing as it looked to be built with a minibot in mind, he guessed that some sort of business deal with the Autobots was responsible. The Combaticon could declare his loyalty to Megatron all he wanted, but in reality his loyalty belonged to the highest bidder, regardless of what side they were on.

"This is a joke, right?" asked Skywarp. "I mean, no way Megatron would let you bring a kid into this base..."

"It's not a joke," Thundercracker snapped. "My niece is coming to the base to live. They're bringing her over the space bridge tomorrow."

Skywarp shook his head. "I still can't believe Megatron even agreed to it. Or Starscream, for that matter..."

"Starscream didn't exactly agree so much as he quit whining after a blow to the head," Thundercracker replied. "As for Megatron... I think he sees her as a potential recruit. He did mention that most of our femmes were defecting to the Autobot side."

"Makes sense." He continued to watch Thundercracker work, a disturbingly thoughtful look on his face. Skywarp didn't pause to think very often, but when he did, it usually spawned a great deal of trouble...

"Maybe he's got a specific plan for her," Skywarp said at last with a wicked grin.

"And just what are you insinuating?" demanded Thundercracker.

"That maybe Megatron's looking for a queen?"

Thundercracker stared at his wingmate for a few seconds, then threw the wrench he was holding at him. "You're disgusting! She's not even a vorn old!"

"I was joking!" Skywarp retorted, rubbing the crack in his cockpit where the wrench had struck him. "Besides, I didn't mean he'd get bonded to her right away, just raise her until she was the appropriate age. He might be a crazy dictator, but he's not a sicko either."

"It wasn't funny," Thundercracker complained. "Give me the wrench back."

Skywarp picked up the tool and handed it to him. "Do you even know anything on raising a sparkling? I mean, it's not exactly like you've had the experience."

Thundercracker sighed through his vents and leaned against the half-constructed recharge berth. He really had no idea what he was getting into. Agreeing to take Glory on had been a purely spark-driven decision, based on emotion rather than logic. He hadn't even stopped to consider everything that went into tending a sparkling, keeping her healthy and entertained and educated. He had simply conceded. It normally wasn't in his nature to agree to something without first looking at all the options and making a rational, logical choice based on careful research... but then, most choices didn't involve his sister...

"Do you have any family, Skywarp?"

Skywarp snorted. "Only child. My creators always said one of me was enough for Cybertron, let alone our family unit."

"Then you don't understand." He stared down at the wrench in his fingers, running his thumb across the scratched steel. "This isn't just about some kid they yanked out of a blasted building. This is my sister's daughter. This is family, shared programming. You don't question that kind of loyalty."

"So you're saying you're more loyal to your family than to the 'Cons?"

"Not at all," he said quickly, thinking fast to prevent Skywarp from jumping to conclusions. "I'm just saying that I would never question my loyalty to my family... not any more than I would question my loyalty to the Decepticons."

Skywarp was silent for awhile, thoughtful again.

"I still think there's going to be problems," he said finally.

"Like what?" demanded Thundercracker.

"Like Starscream, for instance. Not to mention Astrotrain, Blitzwing, the Stunticons, the Combaticons, Soundwave... slag, the entire base isn't going to be too happy to have a kid running around underfoot. Rumble and Frenzy are bad enough." He slammed the heel of his hand against his forehead. "Oh Primus, I just had an awful thought - what if she hooks up with those two? The Autobots'll have won the war right then and there."

"Then we just keep her away from the cassettes," Thundercracker replied. "As for everyone else..." He shrugged. "I'm sure they'll get used to her."

"If they don't stomp her to scrap first," Skywarp muttered.

"Instead of standing there making up worst-case scenarios, you can help me get this put together." He gestured at the scattered components of the recharge bunk.

"Nah, I'm late for patrol as it is. And _some_ of us don't have the day off, either." He turned to go, paused as if remembering something, and turned back. "Hey TC... uh... sorry about your sister."

It took a minute for Thundercracker to absorb the apology. By the time he turned back to the doorway, Skywarp was gone.

Silently he finished assembling the smaller bunk, pushing it against the wall opposite his own bunk. He'd decided that, for the first little while at least, Glory would share his quarters. There weren't many spare rooms to be had, and those Megatron chose to save for the warriors. Besides, Glory would most likely want to be close to a trusted adult for a few weeks. Especially considering what she had just been through...

He turned to his computer and opened the picture files again, studying the image of Windblade and Piston. Primus Almighty, why hadn't she ever told him she'd had a child? Surely she would let her brother know such a thing! They had been so close before he had departed aboard the Nemesis... Or was that the problem right there? In leaving Cybertron with Megatron's forces, had he somehow managed to sever ties with Windblade? Did she somehow think that he had chosen the Decepticons over his family? Or had Piston played a hand in it? He hadn't given any indication that he disliked Thundercracker or his relationship with Windblade, but that didn't mean hostilities hadn't existed.

At any rate, he would never know now. He could only accept what had happened and move on.

He surveyed his quarters, noting their starkness for the first time. He was not a mech who indulged in material possessions, unlike Skywarp, who delighted in collecting Earth kitsch, or Astrotrain, who decorated his own quarters with such "trophies" as crushed Earth vehicles and components from slain Autobots. And he preferred it that way - it was always pleasant to return from patrol or a battle to a room free of distraction and clutter, to relax and unwind without stumbling over or crashing into some piece of junk or other. But to a sparkling, he realized, this might as well be a prison cell.

 _I'll have to see about getting her some toys,_ he thought. _Heh, won't THAT look odd on the acquisitions list. Unless she brings her own, of course..._

He would figure out precisely what she needed when she arrived, he supposed. Trial and error and all that. He was very new to this childcare business, after all.

* * *

The rendezvous point with the Decepticons chosen to escort Glory through the space bridge was a sandstone arch deep in the desert, close to the entry to the space bridge but far enough from the Autobot base to avoid their prying optics. Three mechs gathered around the arch, the white-hot sunlight seeming to make their armor burst into brilliant flame. Heat rose in shimmering transparent waves all around, giving the landscape a distorted underwater appearance. Every so often one of them would scan the wavering horizon and burning blue sky for any sign of activity, but so far all they had seen were a few hawks and a lone mangy coyote that Starscream had attempted to use for target practice. Luckily for the coyote, Megatron had interveined - not out of any concern for the creature, but concern that the Autobots might be watching and interpret the action as an invitation to fight.

Thundercracker brushed an inquisitive lizard off of his leg and leaned against the arch. This still seemed so unreal to him. Part of him wondered if, should he doze off here, he would wake up to find himself back in his quarters, this entire incident with the young sparkling nothing more than a dream. In a way, he almost wished it would happen. He was entering completely unfamiliar territory, and that more than anything else frightened him, for it was nearly impossible to logically consider the unknown.

"They're late," Megatron said at last, breaking the silence.

"Maybe they're not coming at all," Starscream suggested. "Maybe this is all a bad joke... or a trap."

"You idiot, the Autobots wouldn't use a sparkling as bait in a trap," snarled Megatron.

"If there even IS a sparkling," Starscream retorted. "And who says it's the Autobots? Shockwave might have cooked this up just to eliminate you..."

"If there is a treacherous Decepticon among my forces, it's you, Starscream," Megatron snapped. "Enough with your conspiracy theories."

Thundercracker raised a hand to shield his optics as he peered into the distance, his vision magnifying automatically to zero in on an anamoly on the horizon. "Sir, mechs approaching."

"How many?" demanded Megatron.

"Three. Two Seekers and a ground-based vehicle."

Megatron nodded. "Still convinced this is a trap, Starscream?"

Starscream snorted. "No being too careful, Megatron. Besides, suppose this whole sparkling business is a trap in and of itself? Something to make us soften our guard to an attack. Slag, the kid could even be a spy..."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," muttered Thundercracker. "Whoever heard of using a sparkling as a spy?"

The ground vehicle - a Cybertronian armored transport - pulled up to the arch, dust settling around it in tawny clouds. Overhead, the two Seekers circled like birds of prey, keeping a watchful eye out for an approaching human or Autobot threat. Megatron stepped forward to address the transport.

"Well?" he demanded. "Where is she?"

"In the back," the transport mech replied, popping his doors open. "Quiet the whole trip. Wonder if she went into recharge or something..."

While Megatron conferred with the transport Decepticon, Thundercracker walked around the vehicle and approached the doors. Hesitantly he glanced inside.

A pair of wide scarlet optics, unnaturally large for the face they were set in, stared back. The little femme sat on a bench inside the vehicle, every servo tense as if she were a turbofox set to spring. She was small, not as small as Rumble or Frenzy but smaller than a minibot, with royal purple and silver plating and a domed helm similar to that worn by the Autobot spy Mirage. Curious vertical slits marked her forearms and shinguards, and he wondered briefly what their purpose was. In her arms she clutched a green toy cyberdragon, and a small travel case sat on the bench next to her. Her silver face expressed fear and curiousity as she continued to stare at him.

 _She looks like her mother,_ he thought with a lump in his fuel intake. Cybertronian parents would often unconsciously design their children to resemble one parent or the other, and normally the resemblance leaned heavily toward the father's side. But the wide-eyed look of nervous observation Glory was giving him at that moment struck him forcefully as belonging to Windblade.

 _Snap out of it!_ he told himself. _You're the intelligent adult here. Act like it._

"Hey there," he greeted, giving a small wave. "I'm Thundercracker. I'm your mother's co-creation."

Glory didn't move.

"Um... I'm your uncle," he tried. Perhaps her parents hadn't used the proper names for their family unit.

She just continued to stare, though he did see her joints relax slightly.

"Come on out," he coaxed. "I don't bite."

Hesitantly she stood, still clutching the dragon as if it were a priceless artifact. She edged toward the door, and he reached in and grabbed her beneath the arms to help her out of the vehicle. He felt her tense up a little at his touch, but she didn't fight him. Once he had her on the ground, he reached in and retrieved her traveling case, subspacing it.

As soon as she and her belongings were out of the vehicle, the mech transformed to his robot mode, and he pulled a stack of datapads out of subspace and held them out to Megatron. "Where's the sparkling's caretaker?"

"Right there." Megatron nodded at Thundercracker.

"Right." He turned to face the Seeker. "Medical records and adoption documents. I'll need your signature on the latter."

Thundercracker took the datapads and scrawled a few Cybertronian glyphs onto the last pad in the stack before handing it back. "Is that all?"

"That's it," the mech grunted. "She's all yours." And he folded himself back into his transport mode and drove away, the Seekers following.

Megatron looked down at Glory. "So this is the cause of all the fuss, then?"

Glory ducked behind Thundercracker's leg.

"Hey, he's not going to hurt you," Thundercracker told her, trying to step to the side. Glory responded by clinging to his leg, preventing him from moving.

"How cute, she loves her uncle," Starscream noted with disgusted sarcasm. "That's so sweet, I think I'm going to purge a tank."

"Starscream, shut up," Megatron ordered. He turned back to the femme, who looked back with wide optics. "Come out where I can look at you, young one."

Reluctantly she released her uncle's leg and shuffled out from behind him. She stood absolutely still as he gazed down at her, clinging to the toy dragon the whole while.

"Younger than I expected," Megatron mused. "What age do the records give?"

Thundercracker checked. "Less than a quarter of a vorn - about fifteen of this planet's years."

"Then it will be a good long while before she is useful to us." He cupped his chin, considering.

"No use keeping her if she's just going to be a drain on our resources," Starscream grumbled.

"The decision on whether or not she stays is mine alone, Starscream," Megatron growled.

Glory continued to stare at the Decepticon leader, optics wide with wonder. Megatron looked her over once more, then nodded as if finding something that satisfied him.

"Back to the base," he ordered. "Thundercracker, transport the femme."

"Um... how, sir?" he asked. Despite being so small, she was still too big to fit in his cockpit, and children this age generally weren't outfitted with anti-grav yet...

"Carry her, you imbecile," Megatron retorted, as if it were completely obvious. "And the moment you get her to the base, take her to Hook and have him give her a physical."

"Yes, sir."

Starscream gave a sneer before leaping into the air, transforming in mid-leap and shrieking into the hot blue sky. Megatron activated his anti-grav and followed. Thundercracker puzzled over his commander's comment a moment, then shrugged and transformed to his jet mode.

"Hop on, kid," he told her, waggling his wings. "It won't be a comfy ride, but it'll just be for a little while until we get to base."

She just watched him, those big optics seeming to drink in his every detail.

"Come on, kid, it's just you and me now," he told her. "This is a rough world, and we're going to have to stick together if we're going to make it here. Okay?"

She shifted from foot to foot nervously, then spoke for the first time since they'd met: "'Kay."

"And Megatron and Starscream really aren't that bad," he said comfortingly, hoping to cheer her a little. "Just give them a little time, and I'm sure they'll warm up to you."

She nodded, then tucked her dragon into subspace and climbed onto Thundercracker, laying down atop him and clinging to his back. He kicked off into the air and trailed after Megatron and Starscream, taking it a little slower so he wouldn't risk Glory falling off.


	4. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song lyrics in this chapter come from "Your Song" by Elton John. I take no credit for them.
> 
> Also yes, I stole a joke from "Calvin and Hobbes" for this chapter. Again, old fic, some WTF moments within...

"As the humans are so fond of saying," noted Hook, extending a hand toward Scavenger, "when it rains, it pours, doesn't it?"

"Frag what the humans say, just get it out of me," grumbled Breakdown.

Hook sighed inwardly as Scavenger handed him a cleaning pick and he set about to working on the Stunticon's innards. There could never just be one or two mechs in the repair bay at a time, could there? Even during the lulls between battles, it seemed the casualties always came in in packs, and today was no exception. Breakdown and Dragstrip had slipped out of the base to tear up some mountain roadways in Washington, an impromptu drag race that had ended abruptly and quite messily when Breakdown had hit a deer at high speed. Ramjet and Blitzwing had engaged in an argument over a video game that morning that resulted in Blitzwing tearing Ramjet's wings off, and the Seeker sulked in a corner while waiting for his turn on the operating table. Vortex, too, awaited his turn, his rotary assembly twisted and snarled with steel cable as a result of a botched prank of Skywarp's. And as if dealing with the three surly mechs wasn't enough, Soundwave had scheduled his cassettes for checkups today, and there was no convincing the rigid Communications Officer to reschedule for a calmer time. Even with the other Constructicons helping out where they could (which wasn't much), Hook was swamped with work.

"I just know the blasted organic slop's working its way into my systems," Breakdown complained in a half-enraged, half-terrified tone as Hook worked a bone fragment loose. "Even now it's probably contaminated my fuel lines. And don't wild organics carry diseases? Say what you like about Earth viruses being incompatible with Cybertronian systems, if I drop dead this week, you know what to blame..."

"I'll be blaming your big mouth in a minute if you don't shut up," grumbled Ramjet.

Hook scraped the last of the matted hair and blood from Breakdown's hood, then set the pick aside. "That's as much as I can physically remove. Go to the washrack for a thorough cleaning, then I'll work on your frame."

"But the cracks... my internals are exposed..."

"You'll survive for the ten minutes it will take to wash the organic material off. Now move aside for the next patient."

"Finally," snapped Vortex, stalking forward, frayed cables trailing after him like ragged tails.

"Hey, I was next!" snapped Ramjet.

"Was not, he was in here before you!" retorted Rumble from the countertop, where Scrapper was just finishing a diagnostic on the cassette. Hook almost felt sorry for the designer - Rumble had been running his vocalizer nonstop since he'd come in for his checkup, and Frenzy did nothing but egg him on as he waited for his turn. At least Buzzsaw, Ratbat, and Laserbeak had quietly submitted to their scans and examinations (not that they were very vocal to begin with, granted). And as for Ravage...

"YEOW!" howled Mixmaster, jerking back and nursing a set of deep punctures in his arm. "Why you slagging little..."

"Whassa matter, can't handle a kitty?" taunted Vortex.

Ravage snarled deep in his vocalizer, glowering at the chemist. The cassette-cat obviously didn't appreciate the half-mad scientist's poking and prodding.

Hook motioned for Vortex to take his place on the operating table, doing his best to conceal his irritation. Though he really had no desire to take after the Autobots' foul-tempered medic, it was so tempting to "pull a Ratchet" and fly into a rage at the stupidity of Megatron's troops and the general incompetence of his assistants...

"Hook?"

He looked up to see Thundercracker standing in the doorway, gazing upon the chaos within the repair bay with an apprehensive expression.

"Unless you're bleeding to death or experiencing a major system shutdown, don't come in," Hook informed him crisply.

"Actually, it's not me," the blue jet replied. "Megatron told me to bring her to you for a physical." And he reached behind him and pulled out a young femme by the arm.

Everyone in the repair bay, both Constructicons and patients, paused to stare at the small purple-and-silver femme. She stared back, optics wide, arms wrapped tightly around a toy cyberdragon almost as big as Rumble. The standoff continued for a few moments - the sight of a sparkling was novelty enough to warrant the Decepticons' attention, and the repair bay was a fascinating place for a child, even one as obviously nervous as this one.

Breakdown was the first to speak. "Where'd you find THAT? The toy shop?"

"Since when did Megatron start recruiting minibots?" demanded Vortex.

"She look like a minibot to you, dork?" Rumble inquired.

Vortex looked at the cassette strangely. "What the slag is a dork?"

"Probably human for something nasty, knowing Rumble," Bonecrusher muttered.

Hook knelt to regard the child. "So this is Thundercracker's infamous niece, is it?" he inquired.

"You know about her already?" asked Thundercracker, sounding a little dismayed. "News must travel fast."

"At the speed of Skywarp," Hook replied drolly, continuing his visual inspection. She couldn't be very old - her components were close to brand new. Her creators had obviously been either shell-designers or scientists themselves, as he could detect few flaws in her design. Her optics were too large and there were odd slits in her forearms and shins, but that was it.

"Do you have her medical records?" he asked.

Thundercracker drew a datapad out of subspace and handed it over.

"Hmmm..." He scrolled through the information briefly, made a few notes on things to look at more closely during the examination, then subspaced the 'pad. "She has all her firewall programming and patch upgrades necessary at this age, I see. Bring her in, and I'll examine her."

"Hey, wait a slaggin' minute!" shrieked Vortex, gesturing wildy over one shoulder at his mangled rotary.

"You'll receive your due attention, Vortex," Hook assured the Combaticon. "Long Haul, Scavenger, start untangling that cable. Mixmaster, if you're through with Ravage, you may begin Frenzy's examination. Scrapper, carry on with Rumble. Bonecrusher, prep Ramjet for surgery. Breakdown, report to the washracks already."

Breakdown stalked out, grumbling.

"Since when did a sparkling take precedence over soldiers?" complained Vortex.

"Megatron asked specifically that I attend to her," Hook informed him. "Not the Constructicons, but myself. I do not question orders from Megatron." Truth be told, he was actually grateful for the chance to work on a patient who wouldn't mouth off or turn violent without warning. And if it bothered the others... ah well, they could stew in their own fluids for all he cared.

"Come back later," he told Thundercracker. "I don't work well with a gawking audience."

The Seeker frowned, displeased with the order.

"I'll contact you when I'm finished. Now go."

He gusted a sigh through his vents, then turned to the femme. "This is Hook. He's our medic. He's going to have a look at you and make sure you're healthy, all right?"

She nodded.

"I have to go now, Glory. Be a good femme for him. I'll be back later, all right?"

She gave a more hesitant nod.

"All right." He walked slowly out, pausing a few times to turn and look at her. As if he doesn't trust us, Hook thought offendedly. Haven't we put him back together enough times?

Glory stared up at Hook with silent fascination. He picked her up and set her on the examination table, then rummaged through his tools for a scanner. "Interesting name, Glory. Where did you get it?"

She didn't answer, but apparently the cassettes felt obligated to fill in for her in that respect.

"Duh, she probably got it from her creators," Frenzy said snidely.

"Funny, that's where I got mine," Rumble chimed in, and both cassettes started laughing hysterically.

Hook gave them a wicked smile. "Scrapper, have we taken internal temperatures on those two yet?"

Scrapper's optics glittered eagerly. "Not yet."

"Hey, c'mon, we're fine, you don't need to..." began Rumble.

"It's standard procedure," Scrapper informed them, pulling two sensors out. "Open wide."

"I still don't believe you that these things take two hours to register a temperature," Frenzy complained.

Scrapper stuffed a sensor into each cassette's mouth. "Hold still and keep your mouths closed. If you fail to do so, we'll have to add a half-hour to your time to ensure an accurate reading."

They gave sour nods and sat down, glowering at the chief surgeon. Ah, sweet respite, however brief...

The scanner blipped, indicating an abnormality. He turned his attention to Glory's left leg, noting the weld seams. This limb had been injured recently, though there had been some effort expended into repairing it. He frowned at the workmanship and made a mental note to schedule her for a follow-up to clean up the previous medic's mess.

"What's your range of motion in this leg?" he inquired.

She looked at him as if he'd spoken in an alien language.

 _Remember, you're dealing with a child,_ he told himself. _You have to talk "child" with them. Technical talk will only go over their cranial units._ "Tell me when it hurts," he ordered, taking her limb and carefully bending the knee joint, then pushing the limb back until her knee nearly touched her chest. She gave no indication of discomfort until he flexed her ankle joint, at which point she whimpered a little and nodded.

"Damage to ankle joint, possibly a snapped or overextended cable," he noted, typing a note into a nearby datapad. "Does anything else hurt?"

She shook her head. Satisfied, he finished the diagnostics and rechecked the scanner just to be sure... and noticed something unusual.

 _Weaponry systems and defense systems? In a sparkling?_ He supposed it shouldn't have come as a big surprise - Decepticons were a warrior race, and many creators opted to give their children some means of defending themselves in a tricky situation. But he had never treated a Decepticon sparkling before, so this was something new.

"Show me your weaponry," he ordered her.

That made Vortex look up from the nearby table, where Long Haul and Scavenger were tangling the cables in his rotors even more. "She's got guns? Who gives a kid guns?"

In response Glory raised her arms, and with a soft _kchink_ a row of curved spikes popped out of each the slits in her forearms. At the same time a set of longer spikes slid out of the slits in her shinguards. Hook couldn't help but feel a little impressed as he inspected the spikes and tested their sharp edges with the pad of a finger. At least her creators had thought to give her weaponry that wouldn't risk damaging herself worse than a potential attacker.

"Holy slag," Vortex muttered.

"Put them away," he ordered. "Your defense system?"

She screwed up her face in comical concentration, and as Hook watched the purple and silver of her plating darkened, becoming dull black and dark gray. The shift in color made Ramjet's eyes widen and Rumble and Frenzy grunt excitedly through the sensors still stuffed in their mouths, but it was Mixmaster who was truly intrigued.

"Incredible," he said amazedly, leaving Frenzy and coming over to have a closer look. "I've seen magnetic-sensitive paint before, but I've never seen it used on a mech - or a femme, for that matter." He extended a hand toward Glory. "She must have some sort of magnetizing mechanism built into her..."

Glory shrank back from Mixmaster, optics gleaming brightly with fear. Hook had to suppress a smirk. Though a child, she obviously wasn't stupid - she recognized the insane gleam in the chemist's optics and wasn't about to have him examining her.

"Get back to your patient, Mixmaster," Hook ordered. "She's my responsibility."

Mixmaster snorted. "Have it your way. But I'll track her down and have a look at her later. See if I can duplicate that paint for our own uses, eh?" He chuckled a little and went back to Frenzy.

Hook completed the final scans, then set her back down on the floor. "Come pick her up, Thundercracker," he advised through the comm. "She's finished."

"That didn't take long," the Seeker replied, walking through the door at that moment. Had he been waiting right outside?

"Hey kid, nice seeing you!" shouted Rumble, spitting out the temperature sensor to address Glory. "Ever lookin' for something to do, hunt me an' Frenzy down!"

"Another half-hour," Scrapper snapped, replacing the sensor.

Thundercracker looked at the cassettes a moment, then turned to Hook. "You guys are evil."

"If it grants us a measure of peace and quiet, we'll accept the title of 'evil,'" Hook retorted. "Bring her in tomorrow for a follow-up. There is damage to her left leg that needs repairing."

Thundercracker nodded. "Gotcha. C'mon, Glory, I'll give you a tour." He took the sparkling's hand and led her out.

Frenzy removed his own sensor in order to speak. "Cute kid. Wonder how she's going to take it, having THAT boring stiff as a guardian."

"If she doesn't drive him nuts," Ramjet noted. "Sparklings, little hellions tearing stuff up..."

Hook ignored the cassette and Seeker as he pushed Long Haul aside and set to unwinding the cable from Vortex's rotary. However this sparkling affair turned out, one thing was going to be certain - life at the Decepticon Base was bound to get more interesting.

* * *

"This is where you'll be sleeping," the blue Seeker told her, opening one last room and leading her in. "Actually, where we'll both be sleeping. Hope you don't mind us sharing a room."

Glory hugged Dragon closer as she looked around the chamber. The violet walls were bare, looming blankly around her like the stark walls of the medical center back on Cybertron. The only furniture was a desk with a computer on it, a large recharge berth on one side of the room for the Seeker, and a smaller berth on the other side, presumably for herself. It was nothing like her room back home, bursting with colorful holoposters and mobiles, and certainly nothing like her father's workshop, with its notes and equations scrawled on the walls and the bits and pieces of whatever projects he was working on scattered all over every horizontal surface.

She looked up at the blue Seeker who had called himself Thundercracker. He had said he was her uncle, her mother's co-creation. But he was so different from her mother she had a hard time believing that. She had always worn a smile and laughed often, and she was often planning some silly surprise or prank for her father or even for Glory, though her tricks were never mean-spirited. Uncle Thundercracker didn't smile, didn't laugh. He was a somber mech, often lost in thought, as quiet and reserved as her mother had been vivacious and outgoing.

Thundercracker looked down at her as if just realizing she was watching him. "Well, let's get you settled in, then, shall we?" He pulled her travel case out of subspace and set it on her recharge berth, opening it.

Glory reached inside and pulled out the few trinkets the cleanup crews had managed to salvage from the wreck that had once been her bedroom in the research facility - a small toy Cybertron jet, a stack of datapads containing her educational materials, some toy animals, and a mobile of a star system, though she wasn't sure which one. Thundercracker set the datapads on his desk next to some similar 'pads, then looked over the rest of the collection with a thoughtful expression.

"Not much," he muttered. "Looks like I'll have to made a few additions to the acquisitions list... or go through Swindle again..." He considered a little more, then picked everything up and put it back in the case. "I'll get you a shelf or something to put your things on. Until then, let's just keep them in here."

She nodded.

He set the case at the foot of her bed, then turned back toward her, just looking at her for the longest time. She stared back, shuffling her feet a little. Even though part of her knew this mech was family, shared programming, and that she could trust him, another part knew that even if he did share her programming, he was still a stranger, albeit one that would be her guardian from now on...

"Need energy?" he finally asked. "They'll be giving out the evening energon soon."

She shook her head. Ever since the attack, she hadn't taken in much energy. She just hadn't felt the need for it.

"Ah." He reached up and rubbed the back of his helm absently. "Then do you need to recharge? You've had a pretty long day."

She nodded. Recharge sounded good at the moment, actually. She hadn't shut down for a full recharge cycle since before... she didn't want to think about that...

"All right then." He picked her up and laid her down on the small berth. She shifted around a bit until she found a comfortable position, lying on her side with Dragon clutched close.

"I'm going for my evening energon," he told her. "If you need anything, call me on the comm..."

She reached up and grabbed his hand, panic rushing through her circuits. The thought of being alone here, in this strange new place, terrified her. Even if Thundercracker was a stranger, he was still someone, an adult who could watch over her and protect her.

"Okay then," he relented, pulling his chair over from the computer desk and sitting down. "I'll stay here with you until you're offline, all right?"

She nodded.

"Don't you talk, kid?" he asked her, sounding a little annoyed. "Your vocalizer's not damaged, is it?"

"No," she replied, then turned off her optics, figuring he wouldn't pry any further if she pretended she were offline. Of course she could talk. Just because she COULD didn't mean she HAD to...

But pretending to be offline soon became really going offline, as the events of the last few days finally caught up with her.

* * *

A scream cut into Thundercracker's audials, bringing him swiftly online. He sat straight up in his berth, guns armed, still trying to collect his wits. What was that noise? Had they been attacked? Had Autobots infiltrated their base...

He turned to Glory's bunk and saw the source of the frightened cry. She thrashed in her sleep, whatever terrors her CPU had cooked up somehow activating systems that should have been deactivated during her recharge cycle. Cries and whimpers escaped her vocalizer as she struck out at whatever was terrorizing her dreams.

 _Slaggit, she's having a nightmare,_ Thundercracker realized, and he pushed himself out of his bunk and hurried to her side. Gently he placed a hand on her shoulder in an effort to awaken her. That was a mistake - in her half-recharging state her CPU somehow took him for a threat, and she lashed out instinctively. He yelped and jerked back, his arm slashed with a row of bleeding furrows by her extended arm spikes.

 _She's going to hurt herself!_ Pushing aside the pain of his wounds, he lunged forward and grabbed her arms, holding them still.

"Glory, wake up!" he barked. "Wake up! It's a nightmare!"

Her optics blinked on, and she stared up at him with a look of such pure terror that he wondered if she was still in a dream-state. Then she moaned and withdrew her arm spikes, shaking uncontrollably.

"I want Mommy and Daddy," she whimpered.

"Your creators are dead," Thundercracker reminded her.

"I want Mommy," she insisted stubbornly, and she buried her head in his shoulder and started crying noisily.

"Thunder-butt, shut her up or I'll shut her up for you!" bellowed Thrust from his quarters next door. "Some of us are trying to recharge here!"

Thundercracker tried to calm her down, patting her back and awkwardly holding her. "It's all right, nothing's going to hurt you... hush, it's okay, go to sleep..."

She continued to sob, though at least her cries were quieting down. He held her closely, murmuring words he hoped were comforting. What kind of horrors had she faced in her dreams? Did the Autobots who had slain her parents and razed the Polyhex labs return to haunt her nightmares? He wouldn't doubt that for a second. Even as young as she was, she, too, had become a victim of this terrible war...

 _Primus, even the children can't escape the ugliness! Prime seeks freedom, Megatron seeks domination... but at what cost will either goal come? How many more mechs will die before the war is over? How many more children will be orphaned?_ He had never considered this side-effect of the war before, but now, having seen it first-hand...

"Glory, it's all right," he assured her. "I'm here. Nothing can happen to you."

Slowly she quieted down. She pulled away from his shoulder to look up at him, her cheeks streaked with bluish optic fluid. He reached up and carefully wiped her tears away.

"Go back to sleep, all right?"

She shook her head and clung tightly to him.

"C'mon, you need your recharge." He tried to lay her down on the berth, but she responded by wrapping her arms tightly about his neck.

With a sigh he relented, pacing the room with her over his shoulder. He would have to lull her back into recharge before putting her back to bed. But with her still spooked by her nightmares, that was going to be tricky.

 _Maybe a song will calm her down,_ he thought. He wasn't a musical mech like Rumble and Frenzy, but he had intercepted enough human radio transmissions to be familiar with a few of their songs.

"It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside..." he began.

He didn't know most of the words and so made them up as he went along, but apparently it didn't matter. Glory relaxed in his arms, her air intake slowing to the steady rhythm of recharge. Just to be on the safe side, he held her a few minutes longer while he completed the song.

_And you can tell everybody this is your song  
It may be quite simple but, now that it's done  
I hope you don't mind, I hope you don' t mind  
That I put down in the words  
How wonderful life is while you're in the world_

Then he carefully laid her on the recharge berth, picking her dragon up off the floor where it had fallen and setting it back in her arms. She shifted drowsily but thankfully remained offline.

"TC?"

He glanced up sharply to see Skywarp standing in the doorway. "What's going on? Security breach?"

"No, it's time for patrol, stupid," Skywarp replied.

"It can't be! It's the middle of the night!"

"0600 hours, time to begin patrol." His gaze fell on Glory, and his mouth quirked in a grin. "Take it you didn't get a lot of recharge last night."

"She had a nightmare," Thundercracker explained. "I was trying to calm her down. Must have taken longer than I thought..."

"Heh, the joys of parenthood, huh? Get your aft out there, Starscream's already in a mood this morning."

Thundercracker turned back to Glory's sleeping form for a moment. "Skywarp, will you stay here with her until I come back?" he asked. "She'll probably be terrified if she wakes up alone."

"I ain't a babysitter," Skywarp retorted.

"You owe me," Thundercracker retorted. "Remember, Soundwave doesn't know who's responsible for the shaving cream incident... yet."

Skywarp's optics narrowed, then he sighed and stalked in. "Fine. This once. But that's it."

"Thanks."

Thundercracker left the room and went to report for patrol. Had he really been up half the night with her? It hadn't seemed that long. Hopefully tonight's episode was a one-time incident, and she would sleep the whole night from here on out. This couldn't happen every night, or he'd never get any recharge.


	5. Pictures

An angular shadow crossed over the beach, startling a flock of seagulls away from their scavenging through the surf and into flight. The jet swooped low over the water, skimming the surface with a wingtip and kicking spray into the air. Banking sharply, Starscream veered toward the beach, unfolded himself in midair, and landed smartly, droplets of seawater still gleaming on his wings. He let out a luxurious laugh and stretched his arms skyward. Nothing like a brisk flight to start the day, even if it was technically just a patrol pattern rather than a pleasure flight.

Two more jets passed overhead, and the Decepticon Air Commander watched disdainfully as they angled in for a landing. Skywarp, not wanting to be outdone by his commander, roared over the ocean's surface and spun in a barrel roll, his wingtips almost but not quite touching the water. Then he turned and, with a crackle of energy, attempted to teleport to shore. He must have badly miscalculated, because instead of ending up next to Starscream he reappeared in the surf, sputtering and shaking water and sand out of his vents. Starscream smirked. Skywarp was a deadly fighter, and his talent with teleportation was certainly invaluable, but in the air he was an insufferable klutz and thick-helmed to boot. Honestly, was Starscream the only Seeker among Megatron's troops with any grace or intelligence?

The second jet angled in for a landing, and Starscream grudgingly admitted that the answer was no. Thundercracker was an ace air-mech - he had occasionally remarked that he felt so comfortable in the sky that it was a second home to him - and while no genius, he was far more intelligent than most of the dreck Megatron saw fit to recruit. Quiet and contemplative, yet wickedly effective on the battlefield, the blue Seeker was, quite honestly, one of the top fighting mechs in Megatron's forces. Starscream had even worried early on that Thundercracker would recognize his own superiority over the bulk of his comrades and attempt to overthrow Starscream and take his place as Air Commander in an eerie mirroring of Starscream's own ambitions to someday replace Megatron as Decepticon leader. And frankly, he had been pleased and even a little relieved to discover that Thundercracker had no desire to take command, that he was perfectly content being nothing more than a soldier.

Or rather, perfectly content being nothing more than a soldier and a glorified babysitter.

For the most part, not much had changed in the Decepticon base since Glory had arrived. The sparkling was terribly shy and spent most of the time either holed up in Thundercracker's quarters or finding various hiding spots throughout the base. The only signs of her existence for most of the 'Cons were her appearances in the common room for her daily energon and the occasional startled yelp as someone opened a closet or reached into a cabinet to find a small metallic body that shouldn't have been there. There had been a moderate upset two days after her arrival, when Blitzwing had spotted glowing red optics in the washracks, panicked, and sent the whole base into a frenzy by firing at the "intruder." Luckily he'd missed, but Glory still wouldn't go within a hundred feet of the triple changer.

As for her caretaker, most everyone was placing bets on how long the Seeker would go before cracking. (Starscream personally had a five-cube wager riding on Thundercracker not lasting a month at parenthood.) The femme's nocturnal fits kept him from offlining through the night; some nights her nightmares were so bad that he didn't get any recharge. And it wasn't just his own lack of recharge that was threatening his sanity and health - more than one mech, finding himself rudely awakened from recharge, had banged on Thundercracker's door and offered to either shut her up permanently or rearrange Thundercracker's bodywork for him if she kept the noise up.

Starscream scowled as Thundercracker wobbled in for an uncharacteristically clumsy landing, transforming gracelessly and staggering a little on the touchdown. The blue mech looked awful - his armor looked as if it hadn't seen a washrack in days, and his optics were dulled with fatigue. Not that the pathetic display of recharge-deprivation stirred any sympathy in the Decepticon Air Commander.

"What's your problem?" he demanded. "Don't you have the sense to get some recharge at night?"

Thundercracker managed to scrape together enough energy to look indignant. "It's not my fault. Glory doesn't recharge well. She keeps having nightmares."

"Still?" Skywarp inquired, jabbing a finger into his audial to clear out the rest of the sand. "Slag, we didn't frighten her too badly, did we?"

Thundercracker shook his head. "Don't think so. I think she's still dreaming about the labs being destroyed..."

"Take her to Hook and have him knock her out every night," Starscream suggested testily. "That way she won't keep you up."

"I tried taking her to Hook," Thundercracker countered. "He said she was too young for him to safely sedate."

Starscream threw his hands in the air. "Then do SOMETHING, slaggit! Knock her out yourself, lock her in a closet, ship her back to Cybertron, anything! Just fix it! I'm not having any of my mechs fighting at half their energy level just because of a sparkling brat who never should have brought into the base in the first place!"

Thundercracker grunted in reply, not having the energy to argue.

"And hit the washracks once in awhile, for Primus' sake," he finished irritably. "Back to base." He hopped into the air, transformed, and screeched away. The other two jets went airborne and were close behind, though Thundercracker lagged behind a little.

Skywarp dropped back to fly side by side with his friend and opened a private channel. "He's got a point, TC. You look awful. You keep going on like this much longer, you'll look worse than an Aerialbot with cosmic rust."

"What am I supposed to do?" Thundercracker replied. "I can't send her back. You know that the sparkling care system back home's nothing more than a boot camp for the poor kids who lose their creators in battle, turning them into cheap cannon fodder for Shockwave. And I'm all she's got."

"Yeah, you're all she's got," Skywarp agreed. "And where's she gonna end up if you slip into recharge on a patrol flight and fall out of the sky? Or you get Jet Judo'd by those fraggin' twins 'cause you're too burned to notice them? You gotta take care of yourself, TC."

Thundercracker was silent a moment. Skywarp had figured the blue jet had tuned him out when he spoke again.

"Do you think I made a mistake?"

"In taking on the kid? Nah, don't you worry about that. Starscream can whine and yell all he wants, that doesn't make him right. Besides, Megatron let her in. That's all that matters."

"Do you really think I can do this? Raising a sparkling? I can't be doing that well if she still comes online screaming in the night..."

"I ain't a sparkling psychologist, pal. But it's only been a week and a half since her parents died. Give her a little more time."

"You're a hopeless optimist, you know that?"

"Better than being a hopeless pessimist. The base don't need another Dirge or Dead End."

"I suppose that's true."

* * *

Thundercracker reentered his quarters to find Rumble and Frenzy crouching to peer under his bunk, talking in coaxing voices. It took a minute for his tired CPU to put two and two together and figure out what was going on, but once everything clicked into place he strode toward the bunk and lowered himself to his own knees.

"You two aren't tormenting her, are you?"

"Slag no!" Rumble retorted, sounding offended that Thundercracker would even consider such a thing. "We just wanted to talk to her. Nice to finally have another Decepticon around that's close to our size!"

"Hey, kid, c'mon out!" wheedled Frenzy. "We don't bite. Well, Ravage might, but not very often."

"Nice one, now she'll never come out," Rumble grumped.

"Got any better ideas, genius?" Frenzy snapped.

"Slag off." Rumble stuck his head under the bed again. "Hey kid... you like music? C'mon out, we'll play a song for you..."

"Scram, you two," Thundercracker told the cassettes. "You're scaring her."

"She's scared of us?" asked Rumble, puzzled.

"Just go. Sooner or later she'll warm up to you, but let it happen on her terms, all right?"

Frenzy snorted. "Would've been nice to have a partner in crime..." He grabbed his brother's arm and hauled him out.

Thundercracker shook his head as he watched them go. Even if Glory lost her fear of the cassettes sometime down the road, he still wasn't sure letting her befriend those two was a good idea. They would probably find some way to corrupt her.

He bent low to peer under the bunk. "Hey Glory, come on out. It's just me."

She crawled out from under the bunk and flung her arms around his neck, burying her head in his shoulder with a whimper.

"Hey, what's the matter?" he asked, not really expecting an answer. In the past week-and-a-half she had barely spoken...

"You were gone a long time," she said softly.

"Just a few hours," he corrected gently. "I had to fly patrol with Skywarp and Starscream. I have to do that a lot. But I'll always be back."

She tightened her hold on him. "That's what Mommy and Daddy always said."

 _Oh Primus,_ he thought, his fuel tank jolting. _She thinks I'm going to abandon her._

"Glory, I'm not going to leave you," he told her. "I promise you."

"But what if you die?"

"I'm not going to die." He patted her back gently. "I'm part of a good fighting team. We've never lost a mech. Trust me, I'll always be here for you."

She shuddered against him. "I miss Mommy."

He sighed. "I miss her too."

She pulled away and looked him in the optics, her expression a mix of confusion and anger. "Then why don't you ever talk about her?"

That stopped him short. He had been careful not to mention Windblade or Piston around Glory, thinking it would only upset her. He hadn't thought that not mentioning her parents might upset her even more... but apparently it had.

"Can I make it up to you?" he asked finally. "I can show you some pictures of her."

Her optics lit up, and for the first time since their meeting, she smiled.

"C'mere." He picked her up and carried her to his computer, sitting down and setting her on his lap. He opened the folder containing his image files and clicked on the first image, the one of him wrestling with Windblade when they were sparklings.

"Who's that?" Glory asked, pointing.

"That's your mom."

"No it's not."

"Yeah it is, she's just younger. She's about your age in this picture."

"And who's that she's fighting?"

"That's me."

Glory giggled. Thundercracker felt a smile touch his lips. After a week and a half of dealing with complete silence, it was nice to hear her not only speak, but laugh.

"Here's us again," he told her, and he opened the picture of the two of them as adults. Glory's optics widened.

"Where's Daddy?" she asked.

"He wasn't bonded to your mother yet," Thundercracker explained.

"Oh." She reached out and touched the screen. "Do you have a picture of Daddy?"

"Just one," he replied, opening the bonding-ceremony picture. "This was taken right before I went to Earth with Megatron."

She cocked her head to one side. "He's different colors."

"What do you mean?"

"Daddy didn't have white on him. It was gray."

"Sometimes white mechs get a little grayish if they don't maintain their paint jobs," he explained. Then he flipped to a different picture... and had to laugh a little himself.

Glory burst out laughing. "Mommy got you bad!"

"Yes, she did," he replied with a smile, remembering the oil incident with perfect clarity. In retrospect, he had to admit he'd deserved it...

"She got Daddy all the time," she went on. "One time while he was recharging, she painted his visor black. He thought it was a blackout."

"Sounds like Windblade," he murmured fondly.

Glory leaned back against him, her optics dimming a little. "Any more pictures?"

"Quite a few," he replied, scrolling through the rest of the images. "This one was taken at our graduation from the Academy. She was the class clown, I was the top of the class. We made quite the pair."

Glory nodded but didn't speak. When he looked down at her, he saw she was fighting valiantly to stay online, rubbing at her optics. He smiled a little and wrapped an arm around her, humming the song she had taken to so well at nights, and with a final sigh she relaxed against him and dropped offline. Lifting her carefully, he laid her on her bunk, then returned to his computer and continued to browse through the pictures, until finally his own exhaustion demanded attention.

* * *

Thundercracker's optics flickered briefly to life, taking in the ceiling of his quarters. Something was different, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it...

He checked his internal chronometer. 0645? His processor ground reluctantly to life and translated the significance of the time. This was the first time in a week and a half that he hadn't been awakened before 0300 by Glory. Which meant, for the first time since coming to the base, she had offlined for a whole night without waking.

 _Was it really the pictures?_ he wondered, sitting up and working joints that had lain inactive through the night. They had seemed to have an effect on her - seeing her mother, even through an image, had cracked open the shell she had built around herself. And by bringing to light memories of her parents that didn't involve the attack on the labs, perhaps she had finally beaten back the nightmares that had plagued their nights for so long.

He turned toward Glory's bunk to check if she was awake... and felt his fuel pump skip a beat. It was empty.

"Thundercracker to Skywarp!" he commed.

"Whazzat?" came the blurred reply. "Primus, I just offlined a few hours ago..."

"Glory's missing!"

"WHAT?" Skywarp's voice was suddenly clear. "I'll be right down!"

Thundercracker cut the comm line and searched his room - not a difficult task thanks to his spartan habits. There was no sign of her, even when he tipped over both bunks to see if she was hiding underneath one of them. He could only conclude that she had left the room for some reason. Had she gone from experiencing night terrors to sleepwalking? Or had she onlined before him and snuck out for some reason?

His door opened, and Skywarp stuck his head in. "Found her yet?"

"No."

"Slaggit," Skywarp swore.

"Should we do a door to door search?" suggested Thundercracker.

"And get pummelled by everyone in return?" retorted Skywarp.

"What's going on here?"

Skywarp hastily scooted to the side as Megatron appeared in the doorway. He took in Thundercracker's ransacked quarters with a critical eye, then gave him a questioning glower.

"Sir, Glory's gone missing," Thundercracker reported before the Decepticon ruler could ask. Megatron frowned at the news, but otherwise didn't react.

"You lost her already?" jeered Starscream, poking his head out from behind Megatron's shoulder. "Miracles do happen, we're rid of her..." His mocking voice cut off with a pained grunt as Megatron's fist connected with his chassis, just beneath the cockpit. Skywarp wisely backed out of pounding range.

Satisfied that the Air Commander was silenced for now, Megatron turned back to Thundercracker. "What was her last known location?"

"She was in her bunk recharging when I offlined. I came online and she was gone."

"Soundwave, have all units on alert for the sparkling femme," Megatron barked into his comm.

"As you command," came the reply.

"Skywarp, Thundercracker, start searching the halls..."

Thundercracker's comm roared to life at that moment, and the Seeker wondered if Hook could sound any more irate had he and the other Constructicons been in gestalt mode when they made the call.

"THUNDERCRACKER, GET YOUR AFT DOWN TO REPAIR BAY NOW!"

He didn't even bother with a reply, just pushed past Megatron and Skywarp and charged down the hall in a panic. Had she hurt herself? Gotten on the wrong side of one of the more violent Decepticons and been beaten? Found someone's weapon and mistaken it for a toy? The possibilities only worsened with each step he took.

He skidded around one last corner and was treated to an astonishing sight. The doors to the repair bay were wide open, and a spray of multicolored paint streaked out in an arc from the doors, extending clear to the opposite wall. Several Constructicons stood outside the repair bay, spattered with every color of the rainbow and giving Thundercracker poisonous glowers.

Just as he opened his mouth to ask where Glory was, a strange mech emerged from the medical center. He looked like Scrapper, but his paint job wasn't Scrapper's usual green, violet, and black. Rather, he was a deep blue on one side of his body and a mottled tan and red on the other, flecked here and there with random sprays of bright green and yellow. His arms were extended stiffly in front of him, and clutched in his hands was a smaller mech whose plating was smeared with blue, gold, scarlet, brown, and green in a pattern reminiscent of those computer-generated "3-D" images that were popular among humans, only far less organized. On her face was a delighted, totally unrepentant grin that was quite at odds with her usual behavior.

Scrapper carefully approached Thundercracker, his feet leaving colorful tracks on the floor. He halted just before the blue Seeker, thrust the newly redecorated Glory at him, and uttered a single word that dripped with irritation and disdain:

"Yours."

A snort made Thundercracker turn in place. Megatron and Skywarp stood just behind him, enjoying the spectacle. Megatron looked as imposing as ever, his arms folded before his chest and a glower in his optics, but a smirk of amusement tugged at his mouth. Skywarp looked less dignified with one hand over his mouth and another on his abdominal plate as he struggled to keep from bursting into hysterical laughter in front of the Constructicons - an action that usually guaranteed you a change in your paint job or a rather painful procedure the next time you were in for a checkup.

He turned back to Scrapper, an apologetic smile on his face. "I'm sure she didn't mean any harm," he said in an attempt to pacify the Constructicon. "She probably just thought the painting equipment was some kind of new toy..."

"Take her," Scrapper stated in a hard voice. "Now. Before I lose my temper with the both of you."

"Get her cleaned up this instant," Megatron ordered. "And keep her under control. There will be consequences if this happens again." His tone was stern, but his mouth kept threatening to break into an amused grin.

Thundercracker quickly extended his arms and rescued Glory from Scrapper's clutches, never minding the fresh paint smearing his own bodywork. He muttered a quick thanks, then headed in the direction of the washracks, never minding the death glares and snickers he was earning from those assembled near the repair bay.

As soon as they were out of audial-shot of the others, he paused to address Glory. "What am I going to do with you?"

Glory gazed up at him with an innocent expression. Then she raised a hand, dipped it in the still-wet paint on her chestplate, and used it to paint a stripe down her uncle's olfactory sensor. Then she marked him along the optic ridges as if to give him eyebrows.

He couldn't help himself - he started laughing. Shifting her to one arm, he raised his free hand and wiped streaks on her upper lip and chin, giving her the appearance of having a beard and mustache like some human males. She giggled in response, and for a time the two of them just stood there laughing at the others' apperance, never minding the puzzled expressions of those passing by in the hall.

"C'mon, let's hit the washracks," he told her.


	6. Mischief

Megatron left his quarters and strode quickly down the corridor toward the Constructicons' workshop, barely able to rein in his impatience. Scrapper had promised him at least a blueprint, if not a working prototype, of his latest superweapon by now. What was holding the blasted designer up? It wasn't as if Megatron was forcing him and his cronies to skimp on materials - the past few raids should have been more than enough to collect the necessary supplies...

A flash of color caught his optics, and he paused to stare, bemused, at a still-damp painting on the wall just at the level of his knees. It appeared to be a crude Decepticon symbol, dripping in places where too much paint had been applied, with jets of several colors surrounding it. Part of his CPU noted with interest that the most prominently featured jet was a distinctive shade of blue; the rest of his processor made a note to have words with Thundercracker about that niece of his. She had certainly grown bolder over the past few weeks if she could find the courage to deface the walls of the Nemesis.

He straightened and moved to continue... only to feel something collide with his right leg. Instinctively he armed his fusion cannon and aimed downward. Who dared...

Glory looked back fearlessly, her faceplate split in a wide grin, her arms wrapped around his calf and her legs around his ankle. Stunned, he lowered his weapon-arm and just stared for a moment.

"Hello," she said brightly, then giggled.

He scowled back. "Release me, Glory."

She only giggled again and clung tightly to his leg, still grinning.

Snarling in exasperation, he folded his arms across his chestplate and gave her a stern glower. "Don't play cute with me, child. That trick may work on your uncle, but not on me. I am the commander of the Decepticons, ruler of Cybertron, and I am not to be trifled with. Now let go. Immediately."

She cocked her head to the side, like a turbohound listening attentively to its master's voice without computing a word of what he was saying.

"Let go!" he barked, and he raised his leg and stomped a few times in an attempt to dislodge her grip. She responded only by tightening her grip, laughing all the while as if he were merely a ride at an amusement park.

"Do it again!" she exclaimed.

"Let - go - _now!_ " he roared, emphasizing each word, and he bent down, grabbed her arms, and tried to pry her off. She giggled as if finding him the most amusing thing in the world.

Thundercracker chose that moment to round the corner. "There you are, Glory!" he said sternly. "I've been looking all over for you! Let go of him, please."

Immediately she released her grip on his leg and ran toward her uncle, grabbing him around the legs.

"What have I told you about keeping her under control?" barked Megatron.

"I'm sorry, sir," Thundercracker replied, his tone even but his optics alight with amusement. "It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't!" He gestured sharply at the dripping graffiti on the wall. "And clean that up!" He stormed off.

Thundercracker knelt and gave his niece as stern a look as he could manage. "What have I told you about bothering Megatron?"

"To not to," she replied matter-of-factly.

"You need to remember that," he chided. "He's our commander. He deserves to be treated with respect."

"I just wanna make him smile," she complained. "He's always so grumpy all the time."

"And with a military unit like this, who can blame him?" Thundercracker muttered under his breath. He withdrew the cloths and cleaner he'd taken to keeping in subspace. "Let's get this washed off before anyone else comes this way."

"Okay."

The two of them scrubbed at the still-damp paint, Glory attacking the job with as much gusto as she had probably put into vandalizing the wall panel in the first place. Thundercracker was sure both Megatron's demand and his own warning had gone right into one little purple audial and out the other, but hopefully some of his caution had sunk into her CPU on the way.

Their mornings had settled into a routine by now, one that Thundercracker felt he had finally adjusted to, even if the rest of the Decepticons hadn't. Every day he would awaken from recharge, put his quarters in order for inspection, and go off to find Glory - she usually onlined before he did and took the opportunity to explore the base. A few times she had been chased out of another Decepticon's quarters, shrieking from both fear and delight at having provoked a reaction, but most mornings she could be found in the repair bay. For some reason the work of the Constructicons fascinated her, and she would stare over their shoulders in rapt wonder and ask question after question. After a short while Hook would tire of her and direct her to a convenient corner with a canister of paint or a box of odds and ends and an order to entertain herself for awhile. It was usually here that Thundercracker found her, concocting some imaginitive game from the disparate bits she had been given or painting a piece of sheet metal... but sometimes she found an urge to wander, and her artwork would bedeck walls throughout the base.

"All clean, Uncle T," Glory announced, dropping the rag.

"Good," Thundercracker replied, smiling a little at the nickname she had bestowed upon him - he had to admit it was kind of cute and was growing on him.. "Let's keep it cleaned up. Have you had your energy this morning?"

"No." She made a disgusted face. "I don't like it."

"I know you don't like it when the energon comes from a coal-burning plant. But it's all we've got until it's safe to conduct another raid. And we should be thankful for that much." He took her hand and led her in the direction of the Common Room and the morning's energon.

* * *

Rumble peered out from behind the leg of the table to make eye contact with his twin. _Target dead ahead._

 _Gotcha,_ Frenzy sent back, utilizing the telepathic connection all the cassettes shared with Soundwave and each other. Being able to communicate without speaking or resorting to Decepticon radio channels had its advantages, especially when the cassette brothers were up to some plot they wanted to keep secret from the rest of the Decepticons (which was often).

 _What's her position?_ Frenzy inquired. _And where's her stiff of an uncle?_

 _She's sitting down,_ Rumble replied. _TC's right next to her... wait, he's leaving! Going to get more energon, I bet._

 _Sweet,_ Frenzy sent with a grin, and he motioned for Rumble to move in. All was going according to plan.

Glory jumped, startled, as Rumble gently nudged her foot. She bent down to peer under the table, and she grinned upon seeing the cassettes.

"Hey kid!" hissed Frenzy. "Come down here so we can talk to you!"

She glanced up to make sure her uncle wouldn't be coming near anytime soon. From the look of things, he had run into Skywarp and Thrust on the way to the energon dispensers, and the three jets were exchanging some gossip. Satisfied that he was occupied for the moment, she slid under the table and sat down by the cassettes.

"Hi, guys," she greeted, leaning forward to rest her arms on her knee joints.

"Hey kid," Rumble replied with what he hoped was a friendly smile, sitting down across from her. Frenzy kept standing, and for a moment he relished being the tallest being around. Even a sparkling towered over a cassette-con by a good four feet or so, so it was nice to feel taller than her for the time being.

"Haven't had a chance to talk to you in awhile," Frenzy noted. "How you doin'?"

"Okay," she replied with a shrug. "Kinda bored. There's nothing to do here."

"Bummer," said Rumble sympathetically. "Yeah, this place is pretty dull when it comes to entertaining yourself. Which is why Frenzy and I have had to get creative a time or two..."

Frenzy broke in at this point. "If you're bored, kid, we can help you out. We're the boredom-busters around here! Whaddaya say?"

She hesitated. "Uncle T told me I had to be careful around you guys."

"Uncle T?" repeated Rumble. "Oh, ol' TC! Heh, that's cute. Wonder if he'll let us call him that..."

"Never mind TC's nickname," Frenzy told him. "Whatever he's told you kid, it's all a misunderstanding. You ain't got any reason to be scared of us. Trust me." He leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice to a conspirital whisper. "We plan on having us some fun this afternoon, when everyone gets back from patrol. You want to join us?"

She seemed to mull that over a moment. Then she grinned. "Okay."

"Perfect!" Frenzy whooped, pumping a fist.

"Glory, get out from under there and drink your energon," came Thundercracker's scold.

"Oops, gotta run," Rumble noted, standing. "Meet us by the Combaticons' dorms after the fuel break, all right?"

"Okay!" she agreed.

The two cassettes darted out from under the table before Thundercracker could grow suspicious and investigate. Glory climbed back onto the bench as her uncle sat down and handed her a cube. Rumble and Frenzy, meanwhile, retreated to the table Soundwave and their fellow cassettes normally occupied, giggling hysterically. Soundwave, thankfully, was absent at the moment, held up in a meeting with Megatron and Starscream, so the cassettes could talk freely for the time being.

 _Dare I ask what the two of you are up to this time?_ Laserbeak demanded, cocking his head to one side.

"I dunno, do you?" retorted Frenzy, climbing onto the tabletop and claiming a small energon cube.

 _No, because it's a fool's dare,_ Ravage growled, raising his head from his folded forepaws and offering the twins an exasperated look - or as exasperated a look as a mechanical cat can give. _Ask them what they're up to, chances are they'll draft you into whatever scheme they're concocting._

"Why would we do that when we already got a willing volunteer?" Rumble asked.

"Rumble!" snapped Frenzy, cuffing him over the head.

"What?" demanded Rumble.

Ravage's optics narrowed suspiciously. _Willing volunteer? And just who are you dragging into your schemes this time?_

"None of your biz, Ravage," Frenzy shot back. "'Sides, if we tell, it'll take the fun out of it. No surprise."

 _You two have a different definition of fun than most mechs do,_ Buzzsaw pointed out.

"Was that supposed to be a slam, Buzzy?" asked Rumble.

Soundwave's arrival cut the conversation short, and the cassettes settled down to re-energize, though Rumble and Frenzy continued to snicker between themselves.

* * *

No one thought much of it when Glory was seen sneaking into Onslaught's quarters later that day - she frequently ducked in and out of other mechs' rooms, and no one felt like stopping her unless it happened to be their own quarters she was infiltrating. Likewise, if anyone found it odd that Rumble and Frenzy were idling around in the adjacent corridor not too long afterward, they didn't voice their concern. It wasn't until a series of audial-splitting explosions and an outraged howl rattled the wall plating that a good-sized audience deigned to show up - not to investigate the situation or help the incensed Combaticon at all, but simply to enjoy the diversion.

Thundercracker squeezed past a loudly protesting Astrotrain in an effort to make his way to the head of the pack. He had a weird feeling in the pit of his fuel tanks about all this. Glory had managed to slip away while his attention had been elsewhere; was it possible she had gotten herself in trouble with the Combaticons? He desperately hoped not - while Onslaught and his teammates were nowhere near as unpredicatable as the Stunticons, they were definitely not mechs you wanted on your bad side...

"What in the name of the Unmaker is going on here?" demanded Megatron, forcing his way through the gawking crowd. Thundercracker wisely stepped aside to give him plenty of room to pass.

Onslaught stormed out of his quarters, smoke wafting from his black-blotched armor, the acrid stench of gunpowder clinging to him. He growled with every breath he pulled through his vents, and his fists clenched angrily. His visor flashed as he scanned the crowd, searching for the culprit. It didn't take long - Rumble and Frenzy had both collapsed in fits of laughter a little farther down the hallway.

"YOU!" Onslaught howled, storming forward. "You miserable glitches, I'll tear you to shreds!"

Soundwave thrust a hand into Onslaught's chest, knocking the missile truck back a few steps. "Threats of injury toward Rumble and Frenzy: inadvisable. Suggested course of action: stand down."

"Stand down? Those fraggers planted five crates of M80s in my quarters and you're telling me to STAND DOWN?" Onslaught's voice was reaching a hysterical pitch normally reserved for Breakdown in his more paranoid moments.

"Wasn't us!" Rumble protested, scrambling to his feet, still snickering. "Check the security cams! We didn't even go close to the door!"

"Then who..." began Onslaught, but his voice trailed off. He turned slowly to glower at the doorway to his quarters, where a small black-and-gray form had just slipped out as if hoping to sneak by. She gasped and quickly reverted back to her original purple and silver before bolting.

"Why you little..." snarled the Combaticon, launching himself at her.

Thundercracker liked to think himself the logical type, stopping to think before committing himself to any action. But there was no pause for logic here. Before he fully realized what he was doing, he was standing in Onslaught's path, holding a terrified Glory in his arms and against his chest, fully prepared to shield her from the angry Combaticon's blows with his own body.

"Onslaught, stand down!" barked Megatron.

"That fraggin' little... spawn of the... glitch-ridden..." sputtered Onslaught, too angry to bother with such trivial things as coherent speech.

"She wouldn't do it by herself," Thundercracker blurted. "Someone had to have put her up to it."

Rumble and Frenzy both squeaked in terror and darted toward Soundwave, hiding behind the Communication Officer's legs. Soundwave bent down and collected the cassettes, tucking them safely into his chest compartment.

Onslaught glanced furiously back and forth between Thundercracker and Soundwave, as if trying to decide which one of them he would rather dismantle piece by piece in order to get at whatever prankster they were trying to protect. Seeming to decide neither were worth the trouble, he growled and stomped back into his quarters, leaving behind a thick gunpowder stench even after the doors slammed shut.

"Back to your stations," Megatron ordered his troops. "Soundwave, deal with the cassettes. Thundercracker..." He eyed the femme in his arms, then simply shook his head resignedly. "Find some means of occupying her time before she gets herself killed." And with that he strode off.

"Scrap, never seen Onslaught that fragged off before," muttered Blast Off as the crowd began to disperse.

"No wonder Frenzy wanted those firecrackers," Swindle noted, following his fellow Combaticon.

Thundercracker and Soundwave were the last ones remaining in the hallway, and for a moment the two blue mechs regarded each other, Soundwave as stoic and expressionless as ever, Thundercracker with some degree of apprehension. Soundwave was an enigma among the Decepticons - no one was quite sure just what went through his CPU. The fact that he rarely interacted with anyone save Megatron and his cassettes, not to mention his much-vaunted telepathic abilities, did nothing to ease the Seeker's mind.

"Um..." he began. "I'm sorry?"

Soundwave inclined his head toward Thundercracker. "Apology not required. Mechs responsible for incident: Rumble and Frenzy. Disciplinary action: forthcoming."

The chest compartment opened just enough for Frenzy to stick his head out. "Hey! I didn't plant the freakin' fireworks..."

Soundwave slapped the compartment shut. "Further communication from you: inadvisable."

"But... but..." came the muffled reply.

Soundwave spun around and strode away, leaving Thundercracker to gape after the tape deck in confusion. At the very least he had expected a rebuke from the Communications Officer for letting Glory get out of hand, if not an accusation that she was at fault for the whole plot to prank Onslaught. But an apology?

Glory giggled against his cockpit. He pulled her back slightly to look her in the eye, one optic ridge cocked in a puzzled look.

"That was fun," she grinned.

"Not fun for anyone else," he scolded. "Don't do that again. And what have I told you about hanging around with the cassettes?"

"Rumble and Frenzy are fun!" she protested. "I like 'em!" She turned to look down the hallway where Soundwave had disappeared. "Is Soundwave their daddy?"

"No," Thundercracker replied. "They're his cassettes. He's a tape deck. They share a link that allows them to work together." He wasn't too sure on all the specifics there - the whole cassette-con deal was beyond him anyhow. "He did create them, so in a sense you could say he's their creator."

Glory nodded. "So he's their daddy."

"No," Thundercracker insisted aloud, though he did have to wonder. Soundwave was protective of his cassettes - he took it personally when another mech insulted or attempted to harm them, and more often than not he performed repairs on them himself rather than turning the task over to Hook. It took a terrific stretch of the imagination to picture Soundwave as a father, but when one looked at the facts, the title fit.

And perhaps that was why he had been a little lenient toward Thundercracker and Glory - because he, of all the mechs in this base, understood the perils of raising a child.

With a sigh he set Glory down and took her hand, leading her toward their quarters. Glory's welcome was beginning to wear thin here; it was time he found some means of keeping her occupied during the day before she got herself in serious trouble.


	7. Allies

"You know what your problem is, TC?" griped Skywarp, throwing himself in a chair on the side of the table opposite the blue Seeker. "You overthink everything."

"Whereas your problem is that you don't think at all," Thundercracker fired back, not looking up from the datapad. "And then you wonder why you're always in deep slag with Starscream or Megatron, or picking up your own pieces after the target of your last prank gets through with you."

"Har har," Skywarp retorted. "At least I act. Better than sitting around thinking and never getting anything done at all." He leaned across the table to peer at what Thundercracker was working on. "What's this project?"

"Lesson plan for Glory."

"Huh?" Skywarp was certainly infamous among the Decepticons, but not for his witty comebacks.

Thundercracker sighed and reached across the table to smack the black Seeker upside the helm. "Apparently with sparklings it's not good to download information directly into their CPUs. They can't handle the flood of information, and data corruptions happen. She's got to take it in a little at a time. And since there's not exactly a school set up here in the base for her, I've got to come up with a lesson plan for her. You know, kind of a home-schooling deal."

"Ah." Skywarp squinted at the datapad. "Who's going to teach her? You? Megatron letting you off of patrol and guard duty for all this?"

"Megatron approves, but no, I'm not getting time off for this." He punched the "save" button and handed the 'pad to Skywarp - it was easier than having to put up with him hovering over his shoulder. "I'll be giving her some of the lessons, such as Cybertronian history and mathematics, but others'll be delegated to other mechs."

Skywarp eyed the 'pad critically. "The Constructicons? You're gonna turn her over to the Constructicons for lessons?"

"That was Megatron's idea. She's actually going to be spending some time with all the teams so she can learn how they operate. The theory is that once she's old enough to upgrade to an adult shell, she'll have learned enough about each team and each type of fighter that she'll be able to decide for herself what capacity she'd like to serve in - gestalt team member, Seeker, medic, spy, whatever."

Skywarp's optics widened as he continued to peruse the schedule Thundercracker had devised. "Yeah, but putting her with the Stunticons one day out of the week? They're practically sparklings themselves, what's she going to learn from them? Besides how to pound other mechs into scrap?"

"How a gestalt team works, driving techniques, how to duck Motormaster... that sort of thing. The Stunts may not be the sharpest blades in the toolbox, but they're good at what they do." He snatched the datapad back from Skywarp. "Besides, wasn't my idea."

"Megatron's bound and determined to make this kid a soldier once she grows up, isn't he?" Skywarp noted.

Thundercracker didn't answer. For one thing, Skywarp should know the answer to that question for himself. Megatron wouldn't bother with this sort of training - really, wouldn't bother with allowing Glory in the base at all - if he didn't plan on her eventually becoming a member of his troops. For another thing, he wasn't too sure of his own opinion on the matter yet. True, it would keep her out of trouble, and such training was not only useful, but in these chaotic times it was necessary. But still, to take in his sister's creation and raise her, only for her to become another soldier in Megatron's forces, to face down the enemy and be prepared to lay down her life for the Decepticon cause... was it truly what he wanted? Would it have been what Windblade wanted?

"Hey, if it ain't Uncle T!"

He snapped back to the present and looked up to see two hulking violet mechs enter the common room, their optics fixed on the table where he and Skywarp sat. Astrotrain and Blitzwing swaggered toward them, twin evil smirks on their faceplates. Thundercracker quickly stowed the datapad into subspace and stood, hoping if it looked as if he were about to leave they would change their minds about bothering him.

No such luck. "Where you off to, Uncle T?" sneered Astrotrain, halting less than an arm's length away from the smaller mech and folding his arms across his chestplate.

"My quarters," Thundercracker replied calmly, though inside he felt as if his fuel tanks had jellied. "There's nothing forbidding that..."

"Nothing forbidding us from holding you up, neither," Blitzwing cut in, coming around to stand behind Thundercracker and cut off an escape in that direction. "So what's this we hear about you getting special treatment now that you're an uncle?"

"I'm not getting any sort of special treatment," Thundercracker protested, wondering what the slag they were getting at.

"Really," Astrotrain replied snidely, obviously not believing him. "Megatron called you into his office for a private meeting, and you walked out without a scratch. Whassat about anyhow?"

"We were discussing Glory's education," he retorted. "Figuring out a lesson schedule and such. So she can join us as a fighter when she gets older."

The two triple changers burst out into laughter. "Oh Primus, thassa good one!" Astrotrain howled. "The kid can barely pick up a rifle, and she's gonna be a fighter!"

"Ya think she'll drag that dumb dragon toy out onto the battlefield too?" Blitzwing snickered. "Hey, she can use it as a weapon - just throw it at anyone who comes close to her."

"Oh, the Autobots'll be shaking in their shinguards!" cackled Astrotrain.

"Hey, leave the kid out of this!" Skywarp snapped, backing out of reach just in case someone opted to take a swing at him for defending Thundercracker.

"You takin' the kid's side?" Astrotrain chuckled. "Whadda we got here, Uncle T and Auntie 'Warp?"

Skywarp scowled as the triple changers roared with renewed laughter. Thundercracker sidled a few steps to the side, hoping to slip out while they were busy laughing. He wasn't going to be that fortunate - Blitzwing's hand shot out and clamped on a wing, jerking him painfully back into the fray.

"We ain't done with you," Blitzwing growled.

"Give it a rest already," Thundercracker insisted, trying to force some bravado into his words - Blitzwing had a cruel sense of humor, and any fear on his part would only delight the triple changer and inspire him to try and wring further torments from the Seeker. "I need to get to my quarters. Glory doesn't like being left alone too long at nights..."

That was exactly the wrong thing to say - Blitzwing and Astrotrain began laughing all over again.

"Oh, Uncle T's gotta go tuck the sparkling in!" cackled Astrotrain. "Hey, why don't you come tuck me in while you're at it? Read me a story, too!"

"Let him alone already..." began Skywarp, but shut up when Blitzwing grabbed him by the neck.

"You stay out of this," Blitzwing advised. "Or maybe we'll see how Auntie 'Warp looks with his head on backward..."

"What in the name of Cybertron is going on here?"

Three pairs of optics and a visor fixed on the doorway, where Breakdown, Dead End, Wildrider, and Dragstrip had just entered the common room. The four Stunticons stared at the scene before them - the triple changers enjoying themselves at the expense of the two Seekers - for a good long while, not talking or even twitching a servo. Astrotrain and Blitzwing, likewise, froze in place. The only movement came from Skywarp as he pried at Blitzwing's fingers in an attempt to loosen his grip and let him get some air to his overheating systems.

 _Primus, why did it have to be the Stunts?_ thought Thundercracker, his CPU gibbering frantically at the thought of facing not just two sadistic triple changers, but a pack of half-mad Stunticons as well. He tried to duck out while Astrotrain was distracted, but his legs didn't seem to want to take orders from his processor at the moment.

"I repeat," Dead End drawled in his customary refined but dour tones, "what is going on here? Aside from a few mechs being scrapped before their time, I mean."

Astrotrain glanced at Blitzwing, as if silently inquiring what exactly they were doing here. Blitzwing just curled his lip and tossed Skywarp casually aside, the black Seeker toppling over a table and landing with a grunt on the floor. "What business is it of yours?"

"He asked you first, greaseball!" Wildrider snarled.

"Slag off, we're busy," snapped Astrotrain.

"Don't tell us to slag off," Dragstrip retorted, pushing past the others to stand a mere handspan from the triple changer, glaring defiantly in his face. "An' Dead End asked you a question, slagger! Answer him already!"

"What if I don't feel like it, landlubber?" Astrotrain growled, giving the yellow Tyrrell a brutal shove that propelled him backward into his brothers.

"You gonna let him get away with that, Drag?" demanded Breakdown, pushing Dragstrip to his feet.

"Slag no," Dragstrip snarled, charging forward and delivering a powerful blow to Astrotrain's jaw before he could react. Thundercracker leaped to the side as Astrotrain staggered backward to collide with Blitzwing.

"Get 'im!" Blitzwing encouraged, pushing Astrotrain back at the Stunticons. "He just called your creator a dirt-crawler!"

Astrotrain hurtled forward with a roar, landing right on top of Dragstrip and letting the fists fly. The other three Stunticons piled onto the triple changer, kicking and gouging and otherwise pulling out every dirty fighting trick in the bookfile. Blitzwing shouted encouragement from the sidelines for a few minutes, then decided he'd rather get involved directly and flung himself into the fray with merry abandon. Sparks, insults, and pieces of a chair that had been unlucky enough to be in the way of the free-for-all flew in all directions.

Skywarp, taking full advantage of the distraction, teleported out of the room. Thundercracker backed away from the writhing knot of mechs, edging toward the door. He was about to turn and make a run for it when hands gripped him and began dragging him away.

"Hey!" he yelped, turning toward his captor.

Dead End looked rather worse for the wear - his normally immaculate dark red paint chipped and scratched, his purple visor spider-webbed with cracks, and knuckle-shaped dents lining up in a neat row across his faceplate. He seemed oblivious to his damages, however, as he bodily marched Thundercracker toward the door and practically pushed him out of the common room.

"Get to your quarters," Dead End advised. "Before those two brutes realize you're missing."

He stared for a moment at the Porsche. "Why are you doing this for me?" The Stunts had never wanted anything to do with any of the Seekers before.

Dead End shrugged. "You and that sparkling of yours are doomed, Thundercracker. As doomed as the rest of us - perhaps more so if she continues irritating mechs considerably larger than she is." Was that a chuckle? "But a pleasant air of comic disaster hangs over the two of you, and personally I find it somewhat amusing - more amusing than Motormaster's idea of sport, anyhow. So it is currently in my best interests - if against my better judgement - to see your doom delayed for a little while." He pushed Thundercracker in the direction of his room. "Go. We'll hold them off."

Thundercracker nodded and took off. He turned back once to see Dead End run back into the room, and the audial-splitting screech of a winged mech getting his wings twisted into a new shape rang down the hall. Wincing but not about to question the Stunticons' fighting tactics, he headed for his quarters.

Glory was sitting up in her bunk, and she grinned up at her uncle. "Where were you, Uncle T?"

"Just got a little sidetracked," he told her, deciding the full story could wait until she was a little older.

She thrust a datapad at him. "Read me a bedtime story?"

"Just one," he told her, taking the pad and sitting down on the bunk beside her.

* * *

At first Thundercracker had considered himself, Megatron, and possibly Skywarp to be the only mechs in the base with any interest in Glory's welfare. After all, troops in the Decepticon Empire weren't exactly famed for their child-relation skills, and most of their processors worked the same way - namely, smaller mech equalled handy punching bag and/or target practice. Thundercracker had imagined that keeping Glory safe from the other Decepticon troops would be a full-time chore, and that he would be forced to frequently rescue her from another mech whom she had annoyed past his patience level - which wasn't very high in most cases.

But while not everyone was thrilled with Glory's presence aboard the Nemesis, there was a surprising number of mechs who had warmed up to her presence and proved to be unexpected allies for Thundercracker.

Of the other Seekers, only Skywarp spent any time with Glory - Thrust, Dirge, and Ramjet couldn't have cared less about her, and Starscream was so outright hostile toward her she'd taken to hiding behind Thundercracker whenever the Air Commander was around. But Skywarp seemed to have taken it upon himself to become a second uncle to the little femme, teasing and joking with her and occasionally sneaking her into his quarters to watch Earth movies.

The first "movie night" caused quite the stir, if only because Skywarp completely forgot to let anyone know that he was absconding with Glory for the evening. After a base-wide search that nearly drove Thundercracker to hysterics and annoyed Megatron nearly to the breaking point, they finally burst into Skywarp's quarters to find the two of them calmly watching a DVD, completely unaware of the crisis.

"What the slag do you think you're doing?" Thundercracker blurted, storming forward to snatch Glory or whack Skywarp upside the helm - he wasn't sure which yet. Maybe both.

"Sorry, TC!" protested Skywarp, raising his hands as if to fend off a blow. "I completely forgot to radio you!"

Megatron stared at the screen, his optic ridges crooked in a baffled expression. "What... the... slag... are you watching?"

Skywarp lowered his hands a little. "Um... it's called Homestar Runner... online cartoon, but Swindle got me the DVDs... fragger charged me an arm and an afterburner, but it was worth it..."

"You abducted the sparkling in order to expose her to this human-produced intellectual swill?"

"Everybody to the limit!" shouted Glory, pumping a fist in the air. "Strong Bad rocks!"

Megatron turned toward Thundercracker. "You will no longer report to me if she turns up missing! Bother someone else!" He stomped out with a hand on his forehead, muttering something about idiot Seekers and their bizarre obsessions.

"Is this stuff appropriate for a sparkling her age?" Thundercracker asked once the commander had gone.

"'Course it is. You know I wouldn't corrupt her." Skywarp grinned up at the blue Seeker with an expression of perfect innocence.

"Just ask next time, all right?" Thundercracker ordered. "That goes for you too, Glory."

"Okay," she replied, her optics still glued to the screen.

Thundercracker had been suspicious of Skywarp's intentions regarding Glory at first, fearing he'd corrupt her as Rumble and Frenzy had tried to do, but when it became clear Skywarp hadn't any intention of drafting her into his pranking schemes he decided not to object. Megatron, despite his complaints, must have approved as well, because Thundercracker and Skywarp's shift schedules were suddenly altered so that one or the other of them were always kept at the base - and around Glory - at all times.

Speaking of Rumble and Frenzy, however, if Thundercracker had thought the fireworks display in Onslaught's quarters would mark the end of her involvement with the cassettes, he was sorely mistaken. The base never went longer than three days in a row without some sort of prank or lunatic scheme launched by the threesome, be it applying superglue to the handles of all Hook's tools or filling Soundwave's chest compartment with styrofoam packing pellets. The sight of Glory and the two tiny mechs charging headlong down a corridor, screaming and laughing, with a much larger and angrier prank victim hot on their heels, became a common sight - if rather unnerving for Thundercracker, for more often than not it fell on him to attempt to calm down the enraged mech and rescue the femme.

Soundwave himself seemed to tolerate Glory, if only because having her around kept Rumble and Frenzy out of his way so he could direct his energies elsewhere. Buzzsaw, Laserbeak, and Ratbat mostly ignored her, and Ravage... well, no one could really blame him for not liking Glory, seeing as whenever she saw the cassette-panther she insisted on picking him up and hauling him around much like a human child would carry the family cat. And no matter how many times Thundercracker tried to sit Glory down and explain that no, Ravage was not Soundwave's pet electro-cat but a Decepticon soldier, the undignified treatment continued.

After the firecracker fiasco Onslaught would have nothing to do with the femme, and Thundercracker figured the rest of the Combaticons would follow suit. He figured wrong. While Brawl, Vortex, and Blast Off certainly liked to pretend that Glory didn't exist, there was one notable exception that Thundercracker would never in a thousand vorns have ever predicted - Swindle adored her.

When Thundercracker had first approached Swindle regarding acquiring toys and books to keep Glory occupied when she wasn't busy with her lessons, he'd expected difficulties. But Swindle had been perfectly happy to help him out, making suggestions as to what would be appropriate for a sparkling her age and even knocking the price down slightly when Thundercracker finally placed his order. That in itself had been odd, but he hadn't thought too much about it.

A week later, Thundercracker had poked his head into Swindle's quarters to ask how long until his order came in... and found himself gaping, his question unasked. Glory was sitting on the Combaticon's lap, staring enthralled at the computer screen as Swindle explained something to her.

"...so when you control the supplies of a product, it's called a monopoly. Because no one else can provide that particular product - you have no competition. Anyone who wants to buy it has to go through you or do without. That gives you the power to charge whatever price you want, not to mention how much of your product to make available and how much to withhold..."

"What are you doing?" Thundercracker asked.

"Just a bit of an economics lesson," Swindle replied with a grin. "Right, sweetie?"

"Uh-huh," she replied, nodding.

"Do you even understand a word of what he's saying?" asked Thundercracker.

Glory nodded enthusiastically, thought about it a minute, then shook her head. "Uh-uh. But it sounds cool."

Swindle chuckled and patted her shoulder. "Go with your uncle. He obviously wants you. Oh, and tell him his order should be in by tomorrow if everything goes well."

"Okay! Uncle T, Swindle says..."

"I heard," Thundercracker interrupted. He nearly asked Swindle just why he was so interested in Glory in the first place, then decided he was better off not knowing.

From then on Swindle was included in Glory's list of teachers, much to her delight. Swindle seemed determined to spoil the femme, as every time they met he had a trinket of some sort to give her. And while his attempts to educate her on the subtle art of entrepreneurship and economics went right over her CPU for the most part, she did enjoy his attention and didn't seem the worse for it.

As for the Stunticons... perhaps four of them coming to his rescue that night in the common room should have been a sign. While Motormaster completely ignored her except when she and the cassettes happened to prank him, the other four members of the team had adopted her as a little sister of sorts, giving her rides throughout the base and attacking other mechs who so much as looked at her strangely. Maybe it was because, as Skywarp had pointed out, they were practically sparklings themselves compared to the rest of the troops, and they saw her as a sort of kindred spirit. Or maybe they just saw it as a way to underhandedly defy Motormaster. Either way, they doted on Glory, both during her appointed day of the week in their care and during their off hours.

Thundercracker could almost understand Breakdown, Dragstrip, and Wildrider taking a fancy to her, but Dead End was a definite surprise - in the blue Seeker's mind Glory should merely have annoyed the morbidly sullen Porsche. But it was quickly becoming a common sight for Glory to sit beside the Stunticon during energon breaks, listening to him monologue darkly and nodding at appropriate intervals, though Thundercracker wasn't sure if she understood most of what he was talking about (and frankly hoped that was the case - the last thing he wanted was Glory becoming depressed again). Perhaps Dead End simply appreciated a listening audial from someone who wouldn't order him to shut up or pound him for speaking his CPU.

Days and weeks passed by, the Decepticons went on about their business, and Glory slowly but surely worked out her own little niche among Megatron's troops.

* * *

Hook had come to dread Monday mornings. Not precisely for the same reasons the humans did - he wasn't entirely sure what their reason was, actually - but because Monday mornings he was forced to delay his projects and play babysitter to Glory. As often as he could he foisted the femme onto one of the others so he could focus on something more important, such as fine-tuning his operating tools or working on the next superweapon, but that didn't always work. She normally insisted on clinging to Hook and pelting him with questions, and as her "teacher" he was forced to answer them.

Today the Constructicons were putting the final touches on their current project, and Glory was watching intently as Scrapper showed her how to insert the computer chips properly.

"You always make sure the proper side is up," he instructed. "Put it in upside-down, and the chips won't be able to communicate with each other, and you'll get glitches in the programming. Then the gun won't fire, or it will malfunction when you try to use it."

"What's 'mal-funk-shun?'" she asked, cocking her head to one side.

"It won't work right," Scrapper clarified. "It might misfire, or even worse, explode."

Glory giggled at the thought.

"It won't explode," Hook informed him crisply. "The chips are perfectly designed, and even if some idiot inserted them all the wrong way, it won't result in a fatal mishap. Wheeljack I am not."

Scrapper's face was obscured by a mask and visor, but he gave the distint impression that he was giving the Cybertronian equivalent of a human eye roll.

"Can I put the chips in?" asked Glory.

"No, but you can watch," Scrapper told her, carefully lifting the first chip and inserting it in its proper slot.

Hook simply continued to work, wiring the firing mechanism into place. As far as he was concerned, Glory was a nuisance. Oh, she might make a valuable addition to the Decepticon forces one day, but until that day came he was perfectly content to ignore her and the shenanigans she initiated. About the only use he got out of the child was the occasional fetch-and-carry mission - Bonecrusher and Scavenger had taken to calling her "mini Long Haul," a title that annoyed the larger Long Haul to no end - and once in awhile a bit of entertainment in the form of sending Mixmaster out to haul her in for her weekly lessons. Glory hated the chemist for some strange reason, and it was faintly amusing to watch the frustrated cement truck chase her throughout the base, snarling obscenities and threatening to melt her down and make explosive casings out of her if she didn't comply.

Glory's voice piped into his thoughts and cut them off - evidently she'd gotten bored with watching Scrapper.

"Hook, where do sparklings come from?"

Long Haul, who'd been lugging in the pieces of what would be the firing tripod, dropped them with a clatter and nearly fell over laughing. The other Constructicons snorted with barely contained mirth.

"Quiet," Hook ordered. "Long Haul, compose yourself and pick up your mess."

"Yessir," he replied, still laughing as he stooped to recollect his load.

Hook leveled an irritated glower on Glory. "Hasn't your uncle explained it to you, child?"

"I asked him yesterday. He told me to ask you."

Hook made a mental note to rewire Thundercracker's thrusters so they worked in reverse the next time he crossed the surgeon's operating table. "There are a few different ways," he said aloud.

Glory folded her arms on the workbench and rested her chin on them, the picture of silent attention. Everyone else set their tools aside to listen as well, even though the Constructicons knew the answer perfectly well. _Any excuse for these lazy louts to stop working,_ Hook thought sourly.

"When a mech, a femme, or a bonded pair decide they want a sparkling, they either have a child's body shell designed and constructed, or they design and construct it themselves if they have the knowledge," Hook explained. "When the construction is complete, they take it to Vector Sigma..."

"What's Vector Sigma?"

"I'm about to explain that," he said shortly. "Vector Sigma is a computer located deep within Cybertron. It is ancient, and its origins are lost to us, but the one thing we do know is that it has the power to bestow life." He smirked a little as the child's jaw dropped a little in awe. "The parent or parents take the child to Vector Sigma, and it scans the parent or parents' programming. Using that programming it creates a spark, and that spark is placed inside the child's shell, bringing it to life. The spark matures as time passes, and after a few vorns the child usually receives an upgrade to an adult body, one capable of transformation."

"Wow," Glory whispered, amazed. "What's another way?"

"Vector Sigma can also generate already-mature sparks without first scanning another mech, though it requires a key," Hook continued. "These sparks are usually placed in adult bodies right away rather than in child bodies. The Stunticons were made this way, as well as the Autobots' Aerialbots."

"Cool," she murmured.

"Kinda complex," Scavenger noted with a chuckle, "but still not as weird as the human way, eh?"

She gave him a strange look. "Why? How do humans get children?"

Long Haul, who had just finished picking up his load, promptly dropped it again and sat down on the floor, howling with laughter.

"Oh dear, YOU get to explain this one, Scavenger!" Bonecrusher snickered.

"Shut up!" Hook barked. "Long Haul, control yourself! Everyone back to work! Glory, go help Long Haul bring the tripod here, as he obviously can't do it himself..."

At that moment Megatron entered the room, followed closely by Onslaught and Thundercracker. Megatron cast a disdainful eye upon Long Haul, who was struggling to contain his laughter and failing miserably, before glowering at Hook.

"The weapon is almost complete, sir," he reported, opting to ignore Long Haul and hoping it would encourage his commander to do the same. "We merely need to assemble the tripod and mount it."

Megatron nodded sharply. "Good. We intend to make full use of it. Report to the briefing room, and bring the cannon with you."

"But it hasn't even been tested yet!" protested Scrapper, then ducked as Megatron took an irritated swing at him.

"I intend to test it, you fool," he growled. "On the chassis of an Autobot, most preferably. We go into battle again, Constructicons, and we will need your weapon, as well as Devastator!"

"Finally, some action," Long Haul managed, finally clamping down on his laughter long enough to vocalize something coherent.

"You're gonna fight the Autobots?" Glory asked eagerly. "Can I come?"

"No, Glory, you're staying here," Thundercracker told her. "The Combaticons are going to keep an eye on you."

"I still say this is ridiculous!" Onslaught snarled. "My team are military mechs, not nursemaids!"

"You have yet to work yourself back into my good graces, Onslaught," Megatron informed him angrily. "Consider this the Combaticons' penance for failing me during our last confrontation with the Autobots."

"But I wanna go!" Glory pleaded, grabbing Megatron's hand. "I wanna help you! I wanna fight the Autobots too! Please?"

Megatron glanced down at the sparkling, and for a moment he smiled, no doubt pleased that she was already eager to join the ranks and fight for the glory of the Decepticon Empire. "You are too young and inexperienced, child. You would only be in danger on the battlefield. When you are older and have had training, you may join us in our war. Until then, you must remain here."

"No fair," she sniffed, stomping out of the repair bay to sulk.

Thundercracker sighed. "She's going to be a holy terror when she gets older, I can tell already."

"And she's not a holy terror now?" said Onslaught irritably.

"Enough of this," Megatron ordered. "Onslaught, keep her out of trouble. Thundercracker, Constructicons, report to the briefing room. As soon as Hook has demonstrated his weapon for us, we move out!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the Homestar Runner reference in this chapter... I was completely obsessed with that cartoon at the time I wrote this and thought it'd be hilarious for my Decepticon OC to consider it the epitome of entertainment. It was the 2000s, it was a weird time...


	8. Broken

WHUMP!

Skywarp yelped and hit the ground face-first as one of Bluestreak's missiles impacted against the cliff face he'd been standing in front of moments ago. A follow-up barrage of laser fire peppered the air around him, and he scrambled away frantically, returning fire as he did so. At this point he wasn't aiming - he wasn't stupid enough to stand around and check to see if he'd hit anything, not when it seemed like the entire Autobot army was aiming at the target the cassettes had likely painted on his aft. He hoped a Dinobot had stepped on them sometime during the course of the battle.

Slag, victory had seemed so assured when they'd come into this battle. The team of Autobots they'd attacked had been engaged in some kind of soft-sparked disaster-relief project in a human town that had been almost completely leveled by a tornado - they would have been off their guards and almost entirely unprepared for battle. That, coupled with Soundwave jamming the radio waves to prevent them from summoning help and the Constructicon's latest weapon, should have been enough to obliterate some of Prime's best scientists and rescue 'bots with only minimal casualties to the Decepticons. Victory had been assured.

Or at least, victory had _seemed_ assured when Megatron had explained things. Victory _always_ seemed assured when Megatron was doing the talking. No wonder he was the leader.

The remains of Hook and Scrapper's careful work lay in a smoking, glowing, half-melted heap close by, completely abandoned by its designers. The cannon had worked beautifully, shooting a tightly focused, intense beam of heat that, in theory, should have melted even the thickest armor into a glowing slurry. But they had badly miscalculated by not guarding the weapon properly. They had only managed to hit Grimlock in the leg with it, badly injuring the Dinobot commander, before a round of fire had punched through the cannon's coolant line. With no means of staving off excess heat, it had only taken seconds for the weapon to overheat and melt beyond repair.

The other, more devastating miscalculation - there were far more Autobots here than they'd first estimated. They had come here expecting a handful of the weaker, more pacifist 'Bots, such as Skyfire and Beachcomber, perhaps the Protectobots. Yes, the two scientists and the combiner team had been here... but they had been accompanied by such formidable warriors as Bluestreak, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Tracks, Ironhide... and all five Dinobots.

And as if to add another bolt to their coffin, the weather had turned against the Decepticons as well. Powerful winds and jags of lightning filled the near-black sky, rendering flight impossible. For Skywarp and his fellow Seekers, this was a nightmare, as they were far better suited for aerial combat than ground-based warfare. But the Autobots were in their element... and worse, they knew it, and used their advantage to the greatest extent.

Skywarp dove into a deep gulley, where two other mechs had already taken shelter - Thundercracker and Ramjet, the latter's white plating smudged with dark blots to mark him as the first victim of the sudden thunderstorm that had swept onto the battlefield. Thundercracker shoved the conehead Seeker to the side a bit to make room for Skywarp, ignoring Ramjet's muttered curse.

"Took you long enough," Thundercracker remarked, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the roar of wind and gunfire. "Whatever happened to warping?"

"That damn lightning hit took out my warp computer!" Skywarp hissed, poking his head and shoulders out of the gulley just enough to snap some laser fire at the oncoming Autobots.

"Fraggit, why doesn't Megatron call a retreat?" growled Ramjet, hunching down lower as if hoping to hide. "We're just getting beaten to a pulp out here!"

Thundercracker ducked as a retaliating shot chewed into the earth at the lip of the gulley, nearly taking off his shoulder vent. "At least he isn't stupid enough to send Devastator out there. He'd be a walking lightning rod..."

A blur of yellow... and Skywarp found himself face-first in the mud at the bottom of the ravine, fingers digging into the wiring at his neck and the muzzle of a gun jammed into the back of his head.

"Don't move, Decepti-moron," snarled the cold voice of Sunstreaker. "Or I'll put a hole through your head where most mechs would have a CPU."

A short distance away someone screamed, and there was the terrible _whump-whump-whump_ of the red twin's fists on another mech's chassis. There was also the abrupt shriek of thrusters as whichever Seeker wasn't being whaled on fled for his life. The question was, which had escaped...

"Lemme up, Sun-freak-er!" Skywarp growled. "Maybe I'll let you get away with just your gun-arm ripped off!"

Sunstreaker made a _tsk_ -ing sound with his vocalizer. "Someone needs to teach you some manners, flyboy."

"Sounds like YOU'RE the one who needs educating, Auto-brat!"

Gunfire and a grunting impact filled Skywarp's audials, and the grip on his neck vanished. He scrambled to his feet and looked around. A mud-covered Sunstreaker was struggling to get up just to his left, though his leg didn't seem to want to cooperate. To his right...

"Don't just gawk at him!" barked Starscream, keeping his null ray trained on the Lamborghini. "Blow him away!"

"But what about the other one?" demanded Skywarp, turning around.

His fuel tanks churned at the sight. Sideswipe was straddling Thundercracker, unleashing the wrath of his pile drivers upon the blue Seeker's body. Thundercracker looked to have stopped fighting the Autobot warrior some time ago, though whether he had been knocked offline or had simply given up fighting wasn't readily apparent. Energon stained the earth beneath him... his friend's energon...

He knew he hadn't warped, as his warp abilities had been fried when lightning had scattered the Seeker squadron earlier, so it was just as much of a shock to himself as it was to Sideswipe when the red Lamborghini went flying from the impact of Skywarp's punch. He hit the ground with an explosion of dirt clods and curse words, scrambling to get back to his feet.

Skywarp had no intention of sticking around to watch, however. Instead, he grabbed Thundercracker and flung him over one shoulder, wincing at the feel of the other Seeker's fluids trickling down his back. With a burst of antigravs he hopped out of the gulley, then took off on a very low-altitude glide away from the battleground. And not a moment too soon - for Megatron was calling a full retreat.

"Keep low!" advised Starscream, shooting past him. "I'm NOT picking you back up if you get hit by lightning again!"

"Copy!" Skywarp told the Air Commander. To Thundercracker he said "Hold on, TC, just until we get back to base. Just hold on..."

* * *

Swindle considered the oversized Stratego board before him, one arm resting on the table, the other raised so he could cup his chin in his hand. The piece moving toward his own ranks, perilously close to a position to attack his last Eight, was an unknown. He thought he'd identified most of his opponent's pieces, but evidently this one had been kept in reserve and only now been sent out to attack. It could be a Two, which meant the attack was a bluff and moving his Eight aside to protect it would only result in the indignity of his flag being captured by a low-ranking piece. Or it could be a Nine or Ten, which meant standing his ground would result in losing a valuable piece and his flag being captured anyway. Well then, it seemed he had nothing to lose...

He nudged his Eight forward. "Eight. Take that."

Glory grinned and thunked the Eight with her piece. "Nine!"

"Aw, slaggit," he grumped, tipping the Eight over in defeat.

Vortex chuckled from his perch on Swindle's desk. "And now we know why you should leave the strategy to Onslaught. Honestly, losing to a sparkling?"

"Drop dead," Swindle retorted. He wasn't about to admit the real reason he was losing. Better to let Vortex believe he was a lousy enough strategist to lose to a sparkling than to admit he was letting her win...

Brawl poked his head into Swindle's quarters at that moment. "What are you guys doing sitting around in here? The troops are back, and they've got a helluva lot of wounded! Someone needs to help haul 'em to repair bay!"

"Coming, coming," grumbled Swindle, pushing his chair back and standing. "Glory, stay here until I come back. We can finish the game then."

"But I wanna help!" she declared, shooting out of her own seat. "Megatron won't let me fight, but I can still help you guys!"

"Trust me, kid, you don't want to see this," Swindle told her sternly, following Brawl and Vortex out of the room. "Stay here."

Upon leaving the Nemesis' residential wing, they emerged in the main hallway - and were nearly knocked over by a speeding Long Haul, who was in his vehicle mode and hauling a battered, leaking, swearing Astrotrain in his truck bed. Behind him came Dragstrip and Dead End, each supporting a side of Wildrider and helping him hobble to medbay on his remaining leg, then Soundwave, who amazingly was still walking despite missing a chunk of plating over his abdomen that exposed vital circuitry and machinery. Vortex and Brawl immediately stepped forward to offer their aid to the Communications Officer - not out of any kindness, but because it did no good to give a telepath cause to bear a grudge against you.

"So how'd it go?" Swindle asked casually as Thrust limped past.

"Shove it," Thrust grumbled, glaring at the Combaticon through his one uncracked optic. "And you better get out of the way - Megatron's ready to blow something up..."

"Out of my way!"

Thrust stepped aside - or rather, was shoved aside - as Skywarp jogged past, his armor stained with energon and mech fluids, a body flung over his shoulder. With a start and a jolt of his fuel pump Swindle realized it was Thundercracker, though his plating was so smeared with mud and his own fluids that it was difficult to see the blue through it. His optics were dim, his wings cracked and dented, and his arms looked ready to fall from their sockets. Swindle would have thought him permanently offline were it not for the weak rattle of his circulation unit still struggling to function.

"What the slag happened to him?" demanded Swindle.

"Jumped by the twins, last I heard," Thrust replied. "Got under the red one's pile drivers. He's lucky to be functioning..."

_"Uncle T!"_

Swindle's gaze jerked over and down to see Glory at his side, staring with horror after Skywarp. Oh fraggit, no...

"Glory, it's all right!" Swindle told her. "Hook's got him now, he'll be okay..."

She took off at a dead run after the black Seeker.

"Glory!" Swindle bolted after her, careful not to collide with anyone who looked injured. At the doorway to medbay he caught up to her and scooped her up in his arms... just in time to see Skywarp handing the wounded Seeker off to Bonecrusher and Scavenger and turning to spot the Combaticon and Glory.

"Primus, Swindle!" Skywarp snapped, optics flashing in anger. "Why are you taking her to medbay NOW? This is low even for you!"

"I didn't take her to medbay, she got away from me!" Swindle retorted. "This isn't my fault!"

"You two stop blocking the doorway!" Hook bellowed, waving a laser scalpel at them threateningly. "Let the injured through! And get the squalling brat out of here!"

Skywarp grabbed Swindle's arm and hauled him away. "Glory, calm down," he told the little femme gently. "Hook is the best surgeon in the Decepticon army. Your uncle'll be all right..."

Either Glory sensed Skywarp's own doubts about whether Thundercracker would survive, or she just didn't believe those words when they came out of the vocalizer of a mech who was covered in her uncle's energon. She squirmed and writhed in Swindle's grip, arms outstretched in the direction of repair bay, fighting to break free and run to her uncle.

"Let me go!" she shrieked.

"You can't go in there," Swindle told her firmly. "It's not for kids..."

"Let me go!" she insisted, beating on his chestplate with her fists. "I hate you!"

Swindle winced, not at the blows but at the anger in that screamed phrase. "Glory, please calm down..."

"Uncle Skywarp's here, kid," Skywarp told her softly, reaching out and taking her from Swindle. "It's gonna be okay..."

She made a bid for freedom as Swindle released his grip, and Skywarp had to struggle to get his arms around her and keep her from running off. She continued to scream and sob, shouting for her uncle and calling the both of them a list of names rather lacking in variety but still carrying enough venom to sting.

"Glory, you can't go in there," Skywarp insisted. "Hook needs to be able to do his job. You'll see Uncle T when he's finished..."

"I wanna see him NOW!" she protested. "I don't want him to die, not like Mommy and Daddy..."

"He's not going to die," Swindle told her. "He's going to be all right... oh slag."

Megatron stormed forward at that moment, no doubt attracted to the scene by Glory's cries. He opened his mouth as if to demand what was going on, but a quick glance told him all he needed to know.

"Hold her still," he said instead, striding toward the black Seeker.

"I'm trying!" hissed Skywarp, tightening his grip. "She's not cooperating!"

Megatron gripped Glory's shoulder with one hand, then touched the back of her neck with the other as if searching for something. Seeming to find what he'd been looking for, he drew a tool out of subspace and placed it to the base of her neck. She shuddered once, then slowly went limp in Skywarp's arms, her cries trailing off into silence. Swindle shivered involuntarily - if her hysterics earlier had been alarming, her sudden silence now was even more disturbing.

"What did you..." began Skywarp, but went quiet as he realized what Megatron had done. "Is it even safe to force a kid this young into shutdown?"

"There was no other alternative," Megatron replied with a scowl. "Keep an optic on her, Skywarp, until she awakens. Until Thundercracker is fully repaired she is in your charge."

"Sir?" ventured Swindle. "What do we do if... if Thundercracker doesn't..."

Megatron's expression didn't soften one whit. "If Thundercracker dies of his injuries, you may tell the femme that he died a hero, for the glory of the Decepticon cause. He made the ultimate sacrifice to further our victory, and she should be honored." He walked past the two mechs and toward medbay himself, no doubt to obtain some kind of status report from Hook.

Skywarp and Swindle walked away in silence, Glory still draped over Skywarp's shoulder. It wasn't until they were almost to the Seekers' quarters that Skywarp finally spoke up.

"Honored indeed," he muttered with uncharacteristic bitterness. "What does a kid care about the glory of the Decepticons? She's not gonna care that he died a hero. All she's gonna know is that she's an orphan again."

"You don't think he'll have her shipped back to Cybertron, do you?" asked Swindle. "I mean, this is her home now..."

Skywarp gave Swindle a long look, one that told the Combaticon that Skywarp didn't want Glory being taken from the base any more than he did. "Megatron won't let her go back," he replied. "She's too valuable to turn over to Shockwave's joke of a foster care system." He turned toward the closest door and keyed it open.

"That's Thundercracker's room," Swindle pointed out.

"I know," Skywarp replied. "Glory's going to want to wake up someplace familiar." He walked in and carefully laid Glory on her recharge bed. "Will you watch her while I go hit the washrack? I feel like a walking corpse."

"You don't look much better," Swindle replied. "Yeah, I'll keep an optic on her."

"Thanks." Skywarp left.

Swindle sat down on Thundercracker's berth and looked around the room, bemused. The few times he'd been in here before Glory's arrival, the room had looked about as cozy and inviting as a detention block - tidy, but so bare of decoration and furniture that he'd wondered how the blue Seeker could stand it in here. Now, however, the room was bursting with color, oversized posters and Glory's artwork decorating the walls. The toys and games he'd been helping Thundercracker purchase over the past few weeks weren't neatly stowed away at all, but strewn about the floor. The room had undergone a vast change... and Swindle had to admit he liked it.

His gaze rested on Glory again. The little femme lay quietly on her berth, her face relaxed, one arm draped over her toy dragon and the other tucked against her side. If he didn't know better, she could have been peacefully asleep and dreaming.

 _Primus,_ he thought despairingly, _I ain't a praying mech at all... but let Thundercracker make it. This little one can't afford to lose him._

* * *

A hard blow to the shoulder shocked the Combaticon out of a light recharge.

"Ow!" Swindle snapped, his violet optics snapping back online. "What was that for?"

"Where is she?" demanded Skywarp, a look of angry hysteria on his face.

"What do you..." began Swindle, turning toward Glory's recharge berth... her _empty_ recharge berth. "Slaggit! How could she come online so fast?"

"TC always said she was a light sleeper," Skywarp told him. "C'mon, we've got to find her before Megatron finds out!"

* * *

"Fluid pressure's spiking again," reported Scrapper, his visor seemingly locked onto the monitor hooked up to the offline Seeker.

"Are you incapable of reporting good news?" demanded Hook, looking up from soldering a vital bit of wiring in Thundercracker's chest.

"No, I'm just reporting the truth," Scrapper replied.

Hook growled and left off the soldering for a moment. "Scanner."

Bonecrusher handed him the tool, and he began examining the motionless body before him, searching for any kinks or blockages in the fuel and coolant lines that might be causing a pressure buildup. He'd been working on the Seeker for well over an hour, and it seemed he hadn't made much headway in the repairs. Sideswipe's piledrivers had not only crushed vital components and support struts, they had ruptured fluid lines and dented the chestplate so badly it had put considerable pressure on his internals. They had practically had to rip the chestplate off without even bothering to cut or unlatch it in order to save his life. Thank Primus his CPU had been knocked offline badly enough to prevent the brutal "surgery" from awakening him.

Thundercracker was an absolute mess, and to Hook, who had seen far too many grievous injuries in his time to count, that was saying something. His optics were dull gray and dimmed, and his mouth hung open in what looked like a dumbfounded gape. Both shoulders had been crushed in the attack, and his left arm barely hung on by a couple of wires and fuel lines. Tubes snaked out of his laid-open chest and torso, draining out fluids that had built up in the chest and abdominal cavities from ruptured lines. His wings and legs were oddly untouched save a few scratches, but they were streaked with dirt and drying fluids - there hadn't been time yet to do any cleanup other than what was absolutely necessary.

A less stalwart mech than Hook might have balked at the sight. But Hook dismissed the sight and continued his scan. A Decepticon who couldn't handle the sight of a little energon or some exposed circuitry wasn't worthy of the title.

"Pressure's still rising," Scrapper reported. "Pump rate at 110 and climbing, ventilation system at 55 cycles per minute and climbing..."

"Shut the frag up!" snapped Hook, prying away another plate of armor to get at the tubing beneath. "Torso strut's broken and pinching off major coolant and fuel lines. Get me a prybar."

Thundercracker's optics flared online at that moment. The shock and terror on his faceplate told Hook all he needed to know - his CPU had gone offline so quickly proper shutdown protocols hadn't been initiated. He thought he was still on the battlefield, still under attack...

" _Restraints!_ " Hook bellowed, and he slammed both hands against the Seeker's shoulders and threw all his weight into holding him down. Long Haul and Scavenger tackled his legs, scrambling for the restraint bands, as Thundercracker bucked and struggled, uttering frantic growls and cries.

"Pressure's at critical!" Scrapper barked, grabbing for the flailing right arm.

"Shut up and get him strapped down..." Hook snarled.

"Stop her!" barked Mixmaster, making a grab for something at about knee level. Whatever it was, he missed it and nearly went sprawling on his face.

Hook caught a flash of purple out of the corner of his optic and turned to see Glory clinging to Thundercracker's arm, optics streaming with leaking fluid, terrified whimpers squeaking out of her vocalizer. He scowled but was powerless to do anything about her, as it was taking all his strength to keep Thundercracker pinned.

"Glory, get out of here," he ordered.

She shook her head, optics still bright with terror but her little mouth taking on a stubborn set.

"Glory, I mean it!" snarled Hook. "Mixmaster, remove her NOW!"

"Wait," Scrapper advised, his voice calm. "Line pressure's dropped. Still dangerously high, but it's dropped. Pump rate and CPM have lowered too..."

It took Hook a moment to realize that Thundercracker was no longer fighting him, nor was he resisting as Long Haul fastened the final restraint band on his legs. His head had rolled to the side, and his optics were fastened on the sparkling, recognition flashing in the crimson optics.

"...Glory?..." His voice was weak and faint, but the concern in it was unmistakable.

Glory clung tightly to his arm. "Don't go away, Uncle T. Please stay here. Please..."

Hook was not exactly the most soft-sparked of mechs - and with patients like the crew of the Nemesis, no one could blame him - but neither was he stupid. Once he was certain Thundercracker was coherent enough to not fight him, he released his grip on his shoulders and stepped back, then addressed Glory in a slightly calmer voice.

"You can stay here with him," he told her. "It seems to be helping him. But you are not to touch ANYTHING besides his arm, and you are to keep QUIET. If you can't follow those instructions, I WILL have you thrown out, no questions asked. Am I clear?"

She nodded dutifully.

"Good," he replied. "Bonecrusher, where's that prybar?"

Bonecrusher slapped the tool into Hook's palm, and he immediately wedged it under the broken strut and carefully levered it upward. Thundercracker winced but remained still - like most Decepticons, he was built and conditioned to withstand pain.

"Pressure's dropping," Scrapper reported. "Pump rate dropping, CPM normal..."

Hook set the prybar aside, secretly relieved. Thundercracker was out of danger. Now the hard work began...

"Glory?"

Hook whirled to see Skywarp and Swindle at the doorway, their optics fastened on Glory. Skywarp opened his mouth as if to call for the sparkling.

"Get out!" Hook ordered.

"But..." Swindle protested, pointing at Glory.

"I'll keep an optic on her. Now get out."

The two mechs hurried out of medbay. Hook caught a quick whisper of "Primus, I think the iron spark is going soft" as they scurried away. Shaking his head, he returned to work. The things he had to put up with...

* * *

It took forty-eight straight hours of surgery before Thundercracker was able to walk out of repair unaided, and over a week before the final repairs had been completed. In that time Glory never left his side, recharging in a chair by the operating table or following him back and forth from their shared quarters to repair bay. During that time Skywarp stepped in where he could to help take care of her, and Long Haul made it a point to fetch an extra energon cube for her when sent to collect the Constructicons' rations. And though Hook did not openly approve of her presence throughout the blue Seeker's recovery, neither did he complain.

As Thundercracker walked out of repair bay for the final time, Glory still hovering at his side, Skywarp and Swindle met him at the door.

"Don't scare us like that again, okay?" Skywarp ordered him. "We don't want to have to pick up your pieces up again."

"Right," Thundercracker replied knowingly, squeezing Glory's hand in his. "'Warp, Swindle... thanks."

"No prob," Skywarp told him, lightly punching his shoulder.

"You'll owe me later," Swindle told him. "But I'll be generous and leave off the interest."

Thundercracker chuckled slightly. "That doesn't surprise me at all."

"Come on, Uncle T!" Glory insisted, tugging his arm. "Swindle and I never finished our game! I want you to watch me!"

"Board's even still set up," offered Swindle. "C'mon, little one."


	9. Video

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Glory listens to in this chapter is "Everybody To the Limit," and yes, it's another Homestar Runner reference. I swear she grows out of this obsession...
> 
> Song lyrics in this chapter come from "Another Brick in the Wall Part 2" by Pink Floyd, and do not belong to me. Dead End totally listens to Pink Floyd...

"This way!"

Frenzy grabbed Rumble by the wrist and dragged him around one last corner, never slackening his pace despite the fact that his fuel pump was pounding as if trying to beat its way out of his chest. Rumble worked his legs as quickly as he could to keep up with his brother, breath coming out of his vents in ragged gasps as his cooling system kicked into overdrive from their panicked flight. Behind them, the thunderous approach of the larger Decepticons could be heard, a grim reminder that they had yet to lose their pursuers and a spur to drive them on. They'd been caught at their tricks before, and they had no desire to be caught again.

"How much further?" demanded Rumble, puffing hot air in an effort to cool his internals.

"We're here!" Frenzy exclaimed in triumph, and he jerked a small prybar out of subspace and worked it beneath a nearby ventilation grill. "Gimmie a hand, will ya?"

"That's your brilliant hiding place?" demanded Rumble. "That's the most obvious trick in the book!"

"Hey, if it works..." began Frenzy, but angry voices prompted him to shut up and keep prying. Rumble grumbled but grabbed ahold of the bar and helped lever the grill up enough for the two cassettes to scramble inside the ventilation duct. Once inside Frenzy hauled the prybar inside with them and slammed the grill shut - and not a moment too soon, for two irate Seekers and a cackling Stunticon rounded the corner at that instant.

"Fraggit, we lost 'em!" Skywarp snapped, and a dull thud signaled his fist impacting against the nearby wall.

"They couldn't have gotten far," Thundercracker replied, his voice at a normal volume but still simmering with anger. "We'll split up. Skywarp, go left. Wildrider, come with me and we'll cover this hallway."

"Always wanted to play cassette bowling," giggled the Ferrari. "The lil' slaggers have had it coming a long time..."

"But this latest was just... argh!" Thundercracker couldn't seem to find a word vehement enough to describe the act and so settled for copying Skywarp's example and taking his frustration out on the wall.

"Remember, we ain't supposed to damage them," Skywarp informed them, disappointment clouding his voice. "Megatron wants to see them personally."

"Gotcha," Thundercracker replied, sounding pleased that at least they wouldn't entirely escape punishment.

"Slaggit," grumbled Wildrider. "Can't I just swing 'em around by the ankles a little..."

"If you want Soundwave on your case, be my guest..." Thundercracker's voice trailed off as he and Wildrider departed one way. Skywarp's footsteps continued down the other way, and Rumble listened carefully until long after said footsteps had faded into silence. Only then did he dare address his brother.

"This is all your fault, y'know."

"Hey, how was I supposed to know that video we uploaded on YouTube would hit the front page?" Frenzy retorted.

* * *

It was times like this when Tracks was reminded just why he tried not to get involved in the twins' wild schemes. It wasn't the fact that said schemes usually ended with time served in the brig or scrubbing every flat surface in the base, but that the schemes themselves were just so... inane. He failed to see what was so entertaining about ambushing Prowl with that substance humans called Silly String, or rigging the PA system to broadcast "The Song That Never Ends" on continuous loop for twelve hours straight. Thankfully - if only because Sunstreaker couldn't tolerate the Corvette's company - they didn't ply him for aid in their ridiculous plots very often.

Though once in awhile they surprised him with a strange request, as if reminding him why he tended to avoid their company.

"You want what?" he demanded, staring at Sideswipe incredulously.

"You heard me," Sideswipe replied with a grin. "We want a link to the most popular annoying video on YouTube at the moment. You keep on top of human trends, you should know a good one."

"YOU want a link to an annoying video," corrected Sunstreaker. "I don't recall asking to be drug along on this."

Tracks suppressed the urge to smirk at the yellow Lamborghini. Everyone knew that though Sunstreaker would deny it on pain of death, he would never allow Sideswipe to pull a prank on his own if he had any say about it.

"And just what is the purpose of this video I'm to recommend to you?" he inquired.

Sideswipe spread his hands in a gesture of innocence. "What are you talking about, Tracks? Maybe we just want to enjoy some of the humans' popular culture."

Tracks arched an optic ridge. "Even though you specifically requested an annoying video?"

"Well, maybe we'll enjoy it enough that we'll want to share it with others," Sideswipe replied, a sly grin on his faceplate.

Tracks narrowed his optics in a slight glower. "I don't fancy this being traced back to me, you know..."

"Cross my spark and hope to die," Sideswipe said with mock solemnity, drawing an imaginary X over his chestplate. "You won't be implicated, I promise."

Tracks gusted a sigh. "Very well." He sat down in front of his computer and opened the Internet browser. "Let me see what YouTube has to offer."

Sideswipe pumped his fist in a triumphant gesture before settling down to peer over Tracks' canopy. "What's popular today?"

"It better not still be Charlie the Unicorn," Sunstreaker grumbled. "I swear, I lost hard-drive capacity just by watching that weird slag."

"What are you talking about, that was great stuff!" Sideswipe countered. "'Shun the nonbeliever!' Seriously, I about died laughing..."

"No, you about died when Ironhide found out it was you that rigged it as his screensaver..." corrected Sunstreaker.

"Hush already!" Tracks barked. "I've found a video that might suit your purposes. Something titled 'Dancing Robot Kid.' Hmm... only uploaded yesterday and it's on the front page of the site. Intriguing..."

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker exchanged a brief look. Sunstreaker just shrugged. Sideswipe seemed to take that as an affirmative answer and turned back to Tracks. "Let's give it a look. If it's anything like the Dancing Banana..."

"If it is, I'll kill you," Sunstreaker growled.

"I thought you liked the Peanut Butter Jelly Time song," grinned Sideswipe.

Tracks paid only slight attention to their rapport as he waited for the video to load. Thankfully it didn't take long. He whistled to catch the twins' attention, and they quieted down to watch the video.

Sunstreaker was the first to comment. "That's weird, it looks like a Cybertronian kid. Who uploaded this anyhow?"

"Username RibFir42," Sideswipe replied, squinting at the screen. "So what? Probably just means someone on the Ark got the video from back home, thought it was cute, and uploaded it."

"That's not Cybertronian music they're listening to," retorted Sunstreaker.

"So they edited it to have different music to appeal to a wider audience," Sideswipe retorted. "Quit being paranoid, you're my twin, not Red Alert's..."

"And what the frag is a... fa-hoo-goo-god?" Sunstreaker demanded, scowling as he tried to vocalize the strange word.

"That's 'fhqwhgad,'" Sideswipe corrected. "And haven't you ever seen Homestar Runner? Or listened to their 'Everybody to the Limit' song?"

"I don't like the same CPU-rot you do..."

"What the deuce?" Tracks said abruptly.

"Oh, Homestar Runner's a Flash cartoon popular on the Internet," Sideswipe explained. "Surprised you haven't heard of it..."

"Not that!" He stopped the video and rewound it. "I'm talking about this! Look at what's in the background!"

The Lamborghinis leaned over Tracks' shoulders to have a look. "Holy frag, that's Laserbeak!" Sideswipe exclaimed.

"That's also the walls of the Nemesis," Sunstreaker added. "I'd recognize that tacky purple decor anywhere."

Sideswipe's mouth hung open as the video played to a close. "If this video was shot on the Nemesis, that means the kid could be there right now! We've got to tell Prime about this, the kid needs rescuing..."

"Hold your horsepower, Sideswipe," Tracks advised. "Just because this was uploaded yesterday doesn't mean the video itself isn't older. This could have been recorded before the Nemesis even departed Cybertron."

"Besides, who says the kid's a hostage?" Sunstreaker pointed out. "Red optics. That means it's Decepticon."

"Oh come on, there're Autobots with red optics..." Sideswipe pointed out.

"Will you two stop bickering?" demanded Tracks. "We don't know enough about this situation to make assumptions yet. I will agree with Sideswipe on one point, however - Prime needs to be informed of this, and the sooner the better. He's better equipped to make a decision about this than we are."

"Then why are you just sitting there?" asked Sideswipe. "Radio him and send him the vid!"

"I don't need you to order me around, Sideswipe," said Tracks, opening a link to their commander. _Tracks to Optimus Prime, I'm sending you a video file. I suggest you have a look as soon as possible._

* * *

The video itself was innocent enough. A young femme sparkling, her armor royal purple and silver and her round red optics slightly too large for her face, was dancing along to some kind of synthesizer music with a gravelly, oddly accented male voice as the vocal. She wasn't a particularly good dancer, but she was obviously enjoying herself, grinning widely and giggling occasionally. She never faced the camera directly, so whether she knew she was being recorded or not was debatable. To the casual viewer - and honestly, most of the humans who had made this video so popular on the Internet would be considered casual viewers - it was simply a young Transformer child enjoying some innocent fun.

Optimus Prime wasn't so sure... and neither were the officers he had assembled to view the video.

"Well, it ain't doctored footage," Jazz said with a confident nod. "Clean cut, no touchin' up or splicin' that I can see."

"What's a kid doin' in the Decepticon base?" demanded Ironhide. "Can't be nowhere else, purple walls an' Laserbeak in the background're a dead giveaway."

"That's why we're holding this meeting, Ironhide," Prime reminded him. "To figure out to the best of our ability who this sparkling is and why the Decepticons are holding her."

A murmur of assent went through the gathered mechs - Optimus Prime, Prowl, Jazz, Ironhide, Red Alert, and Ratchet. Tracks, Sideswipe, and Sunstreaker had been briefly present at the beginning of the meeting, long enough to explain how they had come across the video, but Prime had dismissed them shortly after they had played the video through the first time - Tracks because he had a week of leave due and didn't want to delay it, and the twins because they would have proven more of a distraction than a help with this matter.

"Ah vote for sendin' a rescue party!" Ironhide exclaimed, thumping the table with a fist. "No lil' kid deserves this!"

"Have you slipped a cog, Ironhide?" barked Red Alert, his sensor horns flashing briefly. "What if that's what the Decepticons want? This could be a trap, with that sparkling as bait! Why else would they have released this video onto the humans' information network?"

"Might not have been a 'Con that slipped it," Jazz pointed out. "Coulda come from Cybertron - or the kid coulda posted it herself. Or a 'Con coulda posted it without thinkin' we'd notice. An' we might not have noticed if it hadn't gotten popular with the humans."

Ratchet snorted. "Any video with Cybertronians in it becomes popular within a breem of it hitting the Internet. You know how fascinated the humans are with us."

Prowl, Prime noted, was completely silent. Rather than joining the discussion, he was focused on the screen at the front of the room, replaying the video again and again for closer scrutiny, though with the sound muted so as not to disturb the others. Prowl was in full analytical mode at the moment, and Prime opted not to disturb his tactician while he was hard at work.

"She's a cute thing," Jazz noted with a slight grin. "Prob'ly a lil' imp for her creators t' handle, though, judgin' by that smile."

"Of course she looks like a cute thing," Red Alert said scathingly. "That's what the Decepticons want us to believe so we'll launch a rescue party. And when they get there to liberate her, she won't be there - all they'll find is an ambush or a death trap, not an Autobot child..."

"Incorrect," Prowl cut in abruptly. "The child is a Decepticon by creation."

"What?" Ironhide glowered at the screen. "She ain't even got a sigil!"

"Unless she was a soldier - and I highly doubt that the Decepticons would resort to child soldiers, as sparklings are too weak and too few in number to make a significant contribution to their forces - she wouldn't be wearing a sigil. The red optics and the chassis design, however, are indicators that she is not an Autobot creation."

"That don't make no sense either," Ironhide complained. "Why would the 'Cons have a kid runnin' 'round their base?"

Prowl's optics dimmed slightly in thought. "There are a few possibilities. First, the sparkling could be the creation of one of the Decepticons - most probably one of the higher-ranking ones, such as Megatron or Starscream."

"Poor kid," muttered Ratchet, earning a snicker from Jazz and a stern look from Prime.

"Second... the child is a femme. It's entirely possible the situation of the femmes on Cybertron is worse than we know."

"The 'Bot femmes are safe," Jazz countered. "Shocky ain't uncovered their new headquarters yet, an' I don't think he'll find 'em anytime soon."

"But we don't have information on the Decepticon femmes," Prime replied. "We've always assumed the Decepticons kept their femmes locked out of sight for their own protection. However, Ultra Magnus and Elita-1 have reported an influx of former Decepticons joining the Autobot ranks, and a rather high percentage of those 'turncoats' have been femmes. Also, there have been more and more instances of femmes fighting alongside mechs in the Decepticon ranks. It's entirely possible that they have lost most, if not almost all, of their femmes due to desertion or war casualties." He glanced at Prowl to see if he'd gotten his theory right, and the tactician's nod of approval let him continue. "It may be that the situation is dire enough that Megatron wants to keep this femme under his supervision, to ensure her safety and continued loyalty to the Decepticon cause."

"That makes sense," Ratchet added. "But that doesn't answer the most pressing question - what are WE going to do about this? Decepticon or not, is the Nemesis really the best place for this sparkling?"

Optimus Prime steeled himself for the inevitable reaction. "We do nothing, Ratchet."

"Nothin'?" exclaimed Jazz, shooting to his feet. "Yer gonna let this poor kid stay with th' 'Cons?"

"Who's slipped a cog now?" barked Ironhide. "The 'Cons're worse than a packa cyber-wolves! They'll tear the poor kid ta shreds!"

"The child is a Decepticon, not an Autobot hostage," Prime replied. "From what we can see, she is well-cared for - energized, well-maintained, entertained, and suffering no abuse. And for all we know, she could have family among Megatron's troops. At this point I believe removing her from the Decepticon base by force will do more harm than good - both to the troops we send to retrieve the sparkling, and the sparkling herself." He turned and deactivated the viewscreen, cutting off the video. "We will continue to keep an audial attuned to any more information on her, however."

There were murmurs of agreement - rather reluctant ones from Jazz and Ironhide - and mechs began pushing chairs back and rising from their seats.

"Still think leavin' her with the 'Cons is a bad idea," grumbled Ironhide.

"Better than traumatizing her with a botched rescue," Red Alert retorted.

"Wonder who uploaded that vid in th' first place," mused Jazz. "'Magine they ain't too popular with the 'Cons about now."

* * *

"Avoidance of serious damage: requested," Soundwave informed Megatron, carrying Rumble and Frenzy into the commander's office by their ankles like a farmer carrying a pair of chickens to the butcher block.

"We didn't know it would get so popular so fast!" howled Frenzy.

"It was a joke!" Rumble squawked. "You know, funny, ha-ha?"

"Very amusing," Megatron replied in a stormy tone, without a hint of amusement. "Did it not occur to you imbeciles that the Autobots might also pay attention to the humans' Internet? Or did that tidbit of information never cross your obsolete, outmoded processors?"

"Our processors ain't outmoded!" complained Rumble.

"Shut up!" Megatron snatched the cassettes out of Soundwave's hands and raising them to his optic level to glower at them. "And count yourselves lucky that I'll be the one deciding your punishment! Or would you rather I allowed Thundercracker to discipline you?"

The cassettes glanced over at the aforementioned blue Seeker and quailed. Normally somewhat calm and collected, Thundercracker now glowered at them, simmering with barely restrained rage. It had only been Soundwave's intervention that had kept him from throwing Rumble and Frenzy across the room when he had finally come across them. And considering it had once been Thundercracker who had come to their aid in the past when Skywarp had kicked the cassettes around, his current mood spoke volumes about the severity of their actions.

"Thundercracker, you are dismissed," Megatron ordered. "You will speak to your niece about her involvement in this affair."

"Yes, sir," he replied, sparing one last withering look at the cassettes before striding out of the room.

Skywarp was waiting for Thundercracker outside the command center, and he fell into step beside him as he continued down the hall. "So how'd it go?"

"He's delivering punishment to the cassettes," Thundercracker replied.

"Slag," Skywarp grumbled. "Wildrider's idea of cassette bowling sounded fun, too. Do we know if the Autobots have seen the video yet?"

"No way to tell," Thundercracker replied. "Though they haven't charged into the base with guns ablaze yet, so even if they know about Glory now, they aren't knocking themselves out trying to 'rescue' her." Though whether it was only a matter of time, or whether they were plotting such a "rescue" as they spoke, who could say? "I'm supposed to talk to Glory about this."

"Why? This ain't her fault."

"We just want to see if she knew about this at all, or gave her approval. And if she did know what the cassettes were planning, I want to be sure she understands the consequences."

Thundercracker turned a corner to see Dragstrip stalking down the corridor, still dripping from his last trip to the washracks. Upon seeing the blue Seeker he brightened a bit and jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

"She's in Dead End's quarters," he said without any prompting. "Only reason Mr. Depresso likes her is 'cause she can reach his hard-to-wax spots." Without further ado he slunk past them and went on his way, leaving a trail of damp footprints.

"Only Glory would think Dead End's great company," snickered Skywarp. "See you at the evening fuel break?"

"I'll be there," Thundercracker replied, then went to find Dead End's quarters. It wasn't hard - the third door down was shut, but even that didn't muffle the sounds of a whining buffer and the pulsing beat of a human rock song whose words he could just make out:

_We don't need no education  
We don't need no thought control  
No dark sarcasm in the classroom  
Teachers, leave those kids alone  
Hey, Teacher, leave those kids alone!  
All in all you're just another brick in the wall  
_

"Typical," muttered Thundercracker, testing the door. Finding it unlocked, he walked in.

For a Decepticon convinced that doom was just around the next corner and making any sort of effort toward any goal was ultimately pointless, Dead End was certainly a neat freak. Datapads, vid-disks, and oversized books were stacked with almost mathematical precision on the small shelving unit, and his gun wasn't lying on the desk or recharge berth but set neatly on its rack, gleaming with a recent cleaning. There wasn't a trace of dust, grease, or other filth anywhere - Hook could have done open-chassis surgery right on the floor without worrying about contamination. Dead End himself lay face-down on his berth, face hidden in his folded arms, as immaculate as the room around him. Glory knelt on the Stunticon's back, face contorted in a comical expression of intense concentration as she ran the buffer across his shoulders.

"What are you doing, Glory?" he asked.

"Making Dead End nice and shiny," she replied, turning off the buffer and jumping down to greet her uncle, pausing to scoop up Dragon from beside the berth.

"I could be deactivated at any moment," Dead End explained coolly. "If not slain in pointless battle against the Autobots, then blasted into oblivion at Megatron's whim or simply expiring in the night when Hook neglects my maintenance. Why not go out looking my best?"

It made sense - if one used Dead End's twisted brand of logic. "I need to talk to Glory. She'll be back later."

"Of course," Dead End replied. "I'll be here, if Motormaster doesn't drag me out and ruin my polish by making a punching bag of me before then."

Glory clasped Thundercracker's hand in hers as he led her out of the room and down the hall. "He's silly," she giggled.

"I guess that's one way of putting it," he replied.

She squeezed Dragon tightly with her free arm. "What are we gonna talk about, Uncle T?"

He turned down a lesser-used corridor to ensure they could talk somewhat privately. "Glory, did Rumble and Frenzy ever make a video of you dancing?"

"Nuh-uh."

"They didn't?" So they had taken the recording without her knowledge or permission...

"No. Buzzsaw did. They just played the music."

He cracked a slight smile at how literally she had answered his question. "But whose idea was it to make the video?"

"Frenzy's."

"And did he say what he was going to do with the video?"

"No."

"I see." He was quiet a moment, trying to figure out how best to word what he wanted to say next.

"You're not mad at me, are you, Uncle T?"

"No, Glory, of course not. I'm just concerned. I want to make sure you're safe, after all. And if the Autobots see the video, they'll know you're here."

"The Autobots saw it?" She sounded a little frightened now.

"I don't know. Megatron's going to make Rumble and Frenzy destroy the video and pull it off of the Internet. And he wants to make sure this doesn't happen again. We don't want anything to happen to you."

"What if Rumble and Frenzy want to make another video, though?"

He stopped walking and turned around to face her, kneeling and taking her shoulders in his hands. "Listen closely, Glory - nobody can make you do anything without your permission. If they want you to do something you know you shouldn't do, or if it makes you uncomfortable, you can tell them no. And if they try to force you to change your mind or threaten to hurt you, you run away and find me or Lord Megatron and tell them what's going on. Am I clear?"

She nodded solemnly. "Yes, Uncle T."

He smiled, hoping to dispel the stern mood. "Good. You know I love you, right?"

She grinned back. "Love you too, Uncle T."

"At least somebody does, huh?" he replied with a chuckle. He patted her shoulder before standing again. "Want to go back and finish helping Dead End, or do you want to come with me and help me on World of Warcraft?"

"Can I do both?" she begged.

"If you hurry with Dead End, you can make it in time to help me and my guild run Vael, okay?"

"Okay!" She tugged eagerly on his arm to urge him back to the Stunticon's quarters.


	10. Stowaway

Glory wriggled herself deeper into the gap between two of the storage crates and curled up tightly, still clutching Dragon under one arm and hardly daring to cycle air. In the months she had lived here she had explored every sector of the Nemesis that she was allowed to wander (and a few sectors that were technically off-limits) and had learned of almost every nook and cranny that was large enough for her to squeeze into. Such knowledge served her well in her day-to-day exploits - hiding places while playing games with the Stunticons, plotting and staging grounds when she and the cassettes concocted pranks, or far more often as sanctuaries when she had annoyed some Decepticon past safe levels and was threatened with harm.

Such as now.

She switched her color scheme to black and offlined her optics to make herself less visible, trembling and waiting for the sound of footsteps to pass by. Of all the Decepticons here, Starscream was the one she feared enough to try not to antagonize. Sure, Motormaster was big and dangerous, the triple-changers were the same way, Megatron was a grouch, and Hook was stuck-up, but it was almost fun getting those mechs to lose their tempers - they made such entertaining shows of it. Mixmaster was creepy and she avoided him when she could, but that didn't stop her from occasionally gluing his chemistry equipment to the workbench or similar pranks. Soundwave... he was an ongoing project for her, as she was firmly determined to someday rile him enough for him to actually react to her pranks.

Starscream was a different story. From the very beginning the Air Commander had made it perfectly clear that he hated her, and he seemed to take advantage of every opportunity he could to insult and terrify her. She didn't understand why he disliked her so much, but at least she had learned to gauge his moods and keep her distance from him. But prank him... she left that to the cassettes. For she had quickly learned that the last thing she wanted was an angry Starscream pursuing her. Most mechs knew that damaging Glory would mean severe punishment and most likely wouldn't carry out their threats if they happened to catch her; Starscream either thought he was valuable enough to Megatron that he wouldn't suffer a penalty for hurting the sparkling, or he just didn't care. At any rate, the red-and-white Seeker was the only mech in the base that Glory went out of her way to avoid pranking or even crossing his path.

Today, however, her latest project had gotten entirely out of hand, and not only was half the base in an uproar trying to find the organic animal she had smuggled in a few days ago, but said animal had left a mess in Starscream's quarters... and he pinned the blame squarely on her.

Slow, carefully measured footsteps sounded, and Starscream's white and blue feet became visible between the gap in the crates. She curled herself up tighter, hoping beyond hope that he would just walk on by...

"Come out, come out, wherever you are, Glory," said the Seeker tauntingly. "The storage bay's no place for a sparkling, you know. Your uncle wouldn't like it if something were to happen to you, would he?"

She swallowed a whimper. Starscream's feet didn't move, but she got the impression that he was looking around for a sign of her.

"You think you're so cute, do you?" he sneered. "You think all you have to do is flash that sickeningly sweet little smile of yours and you'll have the Decepticons falling over themselves to please you." A disdainful laugh. "You might have Megatron fooled. You might have your uncle fooled. You might even have Soundwave fooled. But you can't fool me. I'm not falling for your little tricks, child. You can't soften ME up and turn me into a pathetic fawning excuse for a mech, two steps shy of an Autobot. I won't be manipulated by you..."

The chirp of Starscream's radio interrupted his monologue, and with a muttered curse he answered. "What? Now? What the slag are you... all right, _fine!_ I'll be right there, ETA five minutes, O _Mighty_ Megatron." In a lower voice he snarled "You luck out this time, brat. Next time one of your pets trashes my quarters, I'll take it out of your plating." And he strode away, the sharp clip of his footsteps fading.

A little red warning light pinged in her diagnostic display, and she suddenly remembered she'd shut down her air cycling system. She kicked it back into gear, gasping in air and feeling her internal temperature drop in relief. Why was Starscream so upset anyhow? The cassettes had vandalized his quarters before - and done a lot worse job of it than the sea otter had - and he hadn't gotten this upset over it. At least the otter hadn't sprayed him with black stuff like the octopus had done to Reflector when they'd come across it and tried to kick it out of the way.

She didn't understand what all the fuss was about with organic animals anyhow. Sure, most of them were really small, and you had to be more careful with them than with Cybertronian animals, but they were cute and harmless. And she didn't see the harm in having a pet of some kind. It would keep her company while the Decepticons were off fighting and raiding power plants. But every time she managed to sneak out and catch one it eventually ended up getting squished or thrown back out...

More footsteps approaching, these ones a little lighter, a little quicker. Lowering her air cycles a bit, she shrank back into her hiding place. Please let it not be Starscream, please let it not be Starscream...

A black-and-purple mech poked his head into the gap between the crates, and she screamed. The mech returned the shriek and jumped back, the plates of sheet metal he was carrying scattering in every direction. The ruckus raised by their dual screams and the banging metal brought more footsteps... and two more black-and-purple mechs.

"Fraggit, Kickback, what was that for?" one of them snarled, a masked mech with a strange horn or crest that looked almost like a gun protruding from the top of his head. "You wanna blow our cover or what?"

"Shut up, Bombshell," snapped the one he'd called Kickback, bending down to pick up the dropped metal. This mech wore a scarlet visor and yellow antennae, and a pair of silvery wings jutted from his back - not sweeping elegantly to the side like Seeker wings, but pointing straight up to the sky like sails on a human boat.

"What the frag is that-that?" stuttered the third mech, this one also wearing a visor but possessing two large prongs curving from his shoulders rather than wings. "Looks like a Minibot-Minibot."

"You idiot, Shrapnel, why would a Minibot be on the Nemesis?" demanded Kickback. He turned toward Glory and frowned. "You a Minibot, kid?"

She shook her head, still too startled to speak.

"Aw, you scared her-her," noted Shrapnel, his expression softening just a touch. "She's just a little thing, too. Sparkling from the look of her-her."

"A sparkling on the Nemesis makes about as much sense as a Minibot on the Nemesis," Bombshell noted, bending down to peer at Glory. He didn't have to bend far - if you didn't count Kickback's wings or Shrapnel's prongs as added height, these mechs were only slightly taller than she was. Still, there were three of them and one of her, and she'd never seen them before. Were they harmless... or would they try to hurt her?

"Whatcha doing here, kid?" asked Kickback, cocking his head to one side. "What's your name?"

"I... I'm Glory," she replied, uncurling slightly. "You... you aren't gonna hurt me, are you?"

"Hurt you?" repeated Shrapnel, placing a hand over his spark chamber and looking appalled. "Why would we hurt a sparkling-sparkling? It's unthinkable, I tell you-you!"

"Insecticons may be greedy, moral-less, son-of-a-glitch mercenaries, but we don't hurt kids," Kickback added, flashing his dental plates in a grin. "So don't be scared of us, we don't bite."

"Much," Bombshell added.

"Shut up," Kickback snapped.

"Insecticons?" she repeated, sitting down carefully and setting Dragon on the floor beside her. These guys seemed friendly enough. A little weird, but not scary or mean...

"Insecticons," grinned Kickback. "So, you didn't answer the question, Glory. Whatcha doing here?"

"I live here," she replied. "With my Uncle T." When that answer got her three blank stares she clarified: "Uncle Thundercracker. I call him Uncle T, though. He likes it."

Shrapnel giggled. "Uncle T-T. I know what I'm gonna call TC next time I see him-him."

"Where's Uncle T now?" asked Bombshell, chuckling a little as he said the name. "Does he know you're here?"

"Nuh-uh," she replied. "He's off getting ready to fight the Autobots."

"Fighting Autobots, huh?" said Kickback, antennae twitching and a thoughtful look on his face. "You going with him?"

She huffed. "No. He says I can't go out and help fight until I'm older. It's too dangerous."

"And he's absolutely right, kid," Kickback said in a stern voice, though a grin pulled insistently at the corners of his mouth. "Those Autobots, they're scary beasts, aren't they? Never can tell what they're up to - SHRAPNEL, PUT THAT DOWN!"

Shrapnel froze, mouth still open and Dragon in his hands as if he'd been about to take a bite out of the toy cyberdragon's wing. "I just wondered..." he began.

"Don't!" Glory cried, scrambling to her feet and yanking Dragon free from the Insecticon's grip. "Don't hurt Dragon! Mommy and Daddy gave him to me!"

"Okay, okay, sorry kid-kid," grumped Shrapnel. "Not even a taste-taste?"

"Shrapnel, be nice!" Kickback barked. "Go haul out that energon and titanium alloy we swiped, all right? And don't eat it all either, save some for the rest of us."

Shrapnel grumbled and stalked off.

"Anyway, like I was saying," Kickback went on, turning back to Glory. "Gotta be really careful about Autobots. Good thing Uncle T's being smart and keeping you here..."

"But I wanna go with him," whined Glory. "I wanna help fight Autobots. I wanna help Megatron and the Decepticons. But they say I'm too little for everything. Hook won't even let me help him in his workshop."

"Trust me, kid, you don't wanna fight the Autobots just yet," Kickback informed her, and he took a seat on the floor and patted his lap. "Come sit with Uncle Kickback, and I'll tell you all about the Autobots, all right?"

She frowned at his invitation. So far Kickback seemed nice, but that didn't mean she trusted him right away. So she settled for making herself comfortable across from the Insecticon, still clutching Dragon tightly in case he or Bombshell tried to steal him.

"Eh, close enough," Kickback noted. "Anyhow, you ever seen the Autobots on Earth?"

"No."

"Well, you heard of an Optimus Prime, right?"

"He's their leader, I think. Megatron talks about him sometimes."

"Ooh, Optimus Prime's a great place to start," Kickback said with relish. "And you don't want to meet him in real life, kid - he's HUGE! Big as Megatron and Motormaster! And tough too - head-on collision with Motormaster and he didn't even get a scratch!" He laughed at her stunned expression. "Oh yes, if you're ever in a fight with an Autobot, pray it ain't the Prime."

"Or the Dinobots," Bombshell cut in. "Even bigger and tougher than the Prime... and monsters too. Savage, mindless things..."

Glory shivered. "B-but the Dinobots can't hurt Uncle T, right? Not when he's in the sky..."

"Dinobots can fly, kid," Kickback said in a sinister tone. "And even the non-fliers can be dangerous."

"Bluestreak," chuckled Bombshell. "Wickedly fast, and eerily accurate aim when he shoots."

"Prowl," Kickback added. "Cold and logical, emotionless they say."

"Jazz. Unpredictable and sneaky - you never know what that mech's up to."

"Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. The twins, almost always fighting side by side... as brutal and oil-thirsty as the Dinobots, but much smarter... and much more dangerous because of that."

"Wheeljack. Just as unpredictable as Jazz... maybe more so, since he's a brilliant scientist. Things tend to explode when he's around..."

"Mirage. Sneaky and slick... and he can turn invisible, so you never know where he is."

With the description of each Autobot Glory's optics glowed more and more brightly with terror, and her grip on Dragon tightened until she was nearly crushing the toy cyberdragon in her grip. Kickback and Bombshell spoke in low, solemn tones, as if imparting vital wisdom to the sparkling, but an older and more experienced mech than Glory might have noticed the sly, mischievous light around Kickback's mouth and Bombshell's optics.

Thankfully, heavy footsteps cut the Insecticons off mid-sentence before they could terrify Glory any further.

"Oh slag!" blurted Bombshell. "We aren't supposed to be here!"

"See ya later, kid!" Kickback said quickly, grabbing the sheet metal he'd dropped earlier and sprinting away. Bombshell hustled after him.

Glory almost ran out with the Insecticons, but realized that if they weren't supposed to be here, then someone might think she was helping them if they caught her with them. Panicking, she looked around for a hiding place. If Starscream had finished with whatever Megatron wanted him for and had come back for her...

There! One of the nearby crates looked to have been unloaded roughly and was coming apart at two seams, leaving a corner that could be pried open fairly easily. Quickly she tugged at the panel, wedging herself into the gap and wriggling inside. The crate was pretty big and only half full - of blaster power cells, if her sense of touch could be trusted - so though it was a tight fit, she could hide in here until whoever-it-was passed by.

Voices drifted through the metal walls of her hiding place... Constructicon voices.

"...too soon after the last battle, doncha think?" asked Long Haul.

"How else are we supposed to get energon?" insisted Scavenger. "Pull it out our afts? Our stores are low again, and we can't run this army on sea water."

"I would not be surprised to learn we were infested with Insecticons again," Scrapper drawled. "We shall have to investigate this matter once we return from this raid. Energon theft is a serious offense, after all..."

The box Glory was in shifted abruptly, and she barely stifled a gasp of surprise as said box was carried and set down somewhere else... but where?

"How much more can you carry, Long Haul?" asked Scrapper.

"Few more," he replied. "Don't overload me. I want Hook to look at this rear axle once we get back - it's been bugging me since I hit that pothole back in Tennessee..."

Glory almost cried out as her world lurched around her and she felt herself moving forward - the crate she was in must have been loaded into Long Haul's truck bed! She wanted to yell for him to stop, but she didn't want to get into even more trouble, so she kept silent. Clinging to Dragon and curling up as small as she could, she slowed her air cycling and stifled her whimpers as much as she could as Long Haul continued on down the corridor.

* * *

Megatron allowed himself a pleased smile as he watched his troops surround the nuclear power plant, some ducking inside to pillage their prize for precious energy, others contenting themselves with harassing the human workers a bit. Excellent, most excellent. These humans were more intelligent than the ones he normally ran across - they made no effort to put up a resistance when the Decepticons attacked. Everything was going quite smoothly. It was almost a shame that things hadn't been more challenging, but he supposed they could always take a detour on their way back to the base and stir things up at the Autobot headquarters...

"Fraggit, did I haul this gear for nothing?" grumped Long Haul from where he was parked just behind Megatron. "Thought we'd get some Autobot action, at least..."

"Shut up, whiner," huffed Bonecrusher. "You ain't dying or anything..."

"Hey, all this spare ammo ain't exactly light," Long Haul snapped.

"Quiet, you two," Megatron ordered. "If your load is simply too much for you to handle, Long Haul, have your comrades lighten it. We wouldn't want our more delicate soldiers to suffer needlessly, after all." That last he said with a smirk.

"You calling me a wimp..." began Long Haul huffily.

"Shut up," advised Bonecrusher, giving the dump truck a warning kick to a tire. Long Haul snorted indignantly but quit complaining as the bulldozer began pulling crates out of his truck bed.

Soundwave stepped up to Megatron's side at that moment. "Advisory: vehicles approaching from northeast. Autobot strike force: probable."

Megatron nodded and activated his radio. "All Seekers are to go airborne and scan the area for Autobots! Shoot them on sight! Stunticons, continue with the raid, but you are free to attack any Autobots that make it past the Seekers. Astrotrain, once you're fully loaded return to the Nemesis. And don't be stupid - fire only if you're fired upon! We cannot afford to lose this energon..."

The crate Bonecrusher was holding slipped out of his hands at that moment. He managed to catch it again by bringing his knee up to stay its fall, but the movement was enough to jostle its contents... and elicit a cry from within.

Megatron whirled. "What the... Bonecrusher, open that crate!"

Bonecrusher set the crate down and pried open the lid. Megatron dragged it closer to peer inside... and felt his jaw drop. Curled up among the power cells was Glory, shivering and clutching her dragon toy as she stared up at Megatron with an expression of bright-opticed terror.

The Decepticon leader recovered quickly. "Glory, what is the meaning of this?" he demanded, optics flashing angrily.

Glory whimpered. "I didn't mean to, sir... I was hiding from... from Starscream... and I felt them pick the box up but I was scared and didn't say anything..."

Megatron cut her off with an impatient wave. "We will discuss this later. Continue what you were doing, Bonecrusher. Glory, you will stay by my side at all times until we return to base. Understand?"

She nodded and climbed shakily out of the crate. "Where's Uncle T?"

"Doing what he's supposed to be doing," Megatron said shortly. "No more questions, we have incoming..."

BOOM!

Megatron whirled to see Dirge spiraling toward the ground, smoke pluming from his left side and wing. The other Seekers closed up formation and shrieked ahead to meet their foes... the Aerialbots, gleaming white in the morning sun and firing with gusto upon their rivals.

"Aerialbots: incoming!" Soundwave reported.

"Thank you for stating the obvious!" Megatron snarled, stepping in front of Glory and raising his cannon. "Take Glory away from here!"

"As you command." Soundwave stooped, hefted Glory in his arms, and strode away.

Megatron turned back to the power plant to see a familiar red semi truck barreling down the road toward the power plant, a convoy of Autobots at his mudflaps. Well, he'd wanted some action. It looked like he was about to get it - and plenty of it.

* * *

"But I wanna help!" demanded Glory, squirming in the Communications Officer's grip.

"You are too young," Soundwave informed her, setting her down some distance from the power plant. "Your request: contrary to Megatron's orders."

"But..."

"No buts, kid, the war ain't a place for sparklings," Frenzy interrupted, bursting out of the shrubbery nearby at that moment. To Soundwave the red cassette reported "Sir, one of the buildings has gone down! Offices and not a reactor building, thankfully, but still down! And Rumble and Ravage are stuck inside!"

Glory's systems jolted at the news. Rumble and Ravage! She shivered involuntarily as her memory banks suddenly called up images of before... the labs collapsing on top of her... crushing pressure on her leg... a slab of metallic wall paneling tumbling down atop her mother...

Soundwave's chest compartment flipped open. "Go back, Frenzy. Operation: Excavation. Buzzsaw, Laserbeak, Ratbat, eject. Operation: Aerial Guard."

The mechanical condors and bat soared away, and Frenzy bolted after them.

"I wanna help!" pleaded Glory, clinging to Soundwave's leg. "Please! Rumble and Ravage are my friends! I don't want the Autobots to get them!"

Soundwave looked down at her, his expression unreadable behind his ever-present mask and visor. "Situation: too hazardous. You are inexperienced. Risk of injury to yourself: too great."

"Please!" she begged.

"Negative," Soundwave ordered. "Release me immediately..."

Glory screamed as a blast of laser fire punched through Soundwave's left shoulder, smoke and hydraulic fluid pouring from the wound. Soundwave didn't even jerk in pain, but ripped his rifle from his shoulder and whirled in the direction of his attacker, a yellow-and-gray Autobot with a domed helm who wasn't much taller than Glory but wore a vicious snarl on his faceplate.

"Take cover," Soundwave ordered.

She didn't need to be told twice but bolted. Instead of heading for a hiding place, however, she sprinted in the direction the cassettes had gone. She didn't care what Soundwave or Megatron said - she had to help save Rumble and Ravage!

Frenzy was clawing frantically at a heap of shattered concrete and rebar when Glory caught up with him, circulating air heavily as she skidded to a halt beside him. He left off his digging to give her an incredulous look.

"Hey, you're supposed to stay with Soundwave!" he protested.

"But I wanna help you!" she pleaded. "Please?"

Frenzy huffed. "Fine, but Soundwave's gonna kill me for this." He pointed to the rubble to his left. "Start digging there, thought I heard scratching there."

"Okay." She hurried over and started tossing chunks of concrete aside, doing her best to ignore the explosions and laser fire all over the place. Had it been like this when the Seekers found her in Polyhex? She wasn't sure... the battle had been pretty much over by the time she'd come online...

A section of ceiling tile crumbled under her hands, revealing a metallic black paw.

"Ravage!" She dug frantically with both hands, uncovering more of the feline foreleg, then the shoulder, and finally the sleek panther-like head. The cassette-cat lifted his head and onlined his optics blearily, regarding Glory with a slighty confused expression.

"Oy, Ravage!" Frenzy left off his digging to dash to his brother's side. "You okay? Can you stand up?"

Ravage gave a growl that clearly said "What do you think?" His head and one foreleg were free, but his haunches remained deeply buried.

"Oh, cool your thrusters, we'll get you out of there," Frenzy retorted, and his arms split and flipped around until his piledrivers snapped into place. Hurrying to the pile of rubble that trapped Ravage's hindquarters, he knocked it aside with a few quick blows. Ravage scrambled to his feet, staggering just a bit and favoring one hind leg but otherwise fine save some scratched paint. Glory flung her arms around his neck in relief, and for once Ravage didn't even growl in protest.

"Where's Rumble?" demanded Frenzy. "You see him go down?"

Ravage growled and shook his head from side to side.

"Retrorats," Frenzy grumbled, mouth set in a worried frown. "He's not answering his radio either. Musta been knocked out by the collapse. C'mon and help us dig..."

Glory screamed and Ravage yowled as a ribbon of blaster fire lanced through the air and impacted in the rubble at their feet, causing both cassettes and the sparkling to spring back in alarm. The ground shook slightly with the footsteps of something huge approaching... something that emerged from a cloud of smoke and dust to tower over the three of them, a massive gun in his hands and pointed directly at them. Gleaming in the sunlight, the chips in his scarlet-and-blue paint and the spider-web of cracks radiating through one windshield on his chest doing nothing to detract from his imposing air, the Autobot regarded them coolly from behind his mask even as he continued to advance.

"Oh fraggit, it's the Prime!" hissed Frenzy, and he hastily resumed digging.

Prime... Optimus Prime! Glory whimpered and backed away as Kickback's words returned with a vengeance... _if you're ever in a fight with an Autobot, pray it ain't the Prime..._

"Glory, snap out of it!" Frenzy barked. "Help me dig! Buzzsaw, Laserbeak, Ratbat, we could use a little help here!"

Immediately the bat and condors swooped down, shrieking and firing on Prime with everything they had. Prime's gaze moved from Glory to the flying cassettes with a jerk, and his gun-arm immediately raised to aim and fire at the airgoing threat. The three cassette-flyers scattered, but not before unleashing a cluster of missiles at the Autobot commander, who staggered backward as they impacted against his broad scarlet chest.

"Get him, guys!" shouted Glory.

Ravage roared hoarsely, and she turned to see that he'd uncovered Rumble. The purple cassette was in a lot worse straits than Ravage had been when they'd uncovered him - his visor was shattered and dark, energon oozed from the corner of his mouth, and a long piece of rebar had speared him through the chest, barely missing the spark chamber. Frenzy immediately bent down, gripped the rebar tightly, and jerked it free. Energon and oil spurted from the wound, and he clamped a hand over his brother's chest in an effort to stop the leaking until self-repair could seal the broken lines.

"We gotta get him out of here and to Hook or Soundwave," Frenzy muttered, voice tight with worry. "Ravage, think you can carry him?"

Ravage gave an indignant huff that his strength could even be questioned, but he nodded assent.

"Good." He slung Rumble over the mechanical panther's back. "Let's get out of here..."

A horrible screech, and Laserbeak crashed in the ruins not ten feet away, smoke trailing from one wing. Ratbat, too, tumbled to the ground and came to a bouncing crash-landing close by, slapped out of the air by a huge blue hand. Buzzsaw continued to circle the Prime, firing for all he was worth and shrieking for his attention, but he alone couldn't distract the Autobot Leader as he turned to face Glory and Frenzy.

Glory found herself pinned to the ground by that terrible blue gaze, though every servo and joint in her body trembled in fear. Something glittered in those blue optics... something almost like recognition... she tried to force herself to back away, but her feet refused to obey her CPU...

Prime broke optic contact as jet turbines drowned out all other sound, and he snapped his gun up to fire at the blue Seeker who transformed to land just behind Glory.

"Frenzy, get Glory out of here!" Thundercracker commanded, stepping forward to place himself between Glory and Prime.

"Copy, Blue Leader!" Frenzy quipped, grabbing her hand and tugging insistently. "C'mon, kid, we gotta jet!"

Ravage loped off at a swift but steady pace, doing his best not to jostle Rumble's body. Laserbeak and Ratbat dragged themselves to their feet and took off, still shaky in the air but quickly recovering from their blows. Buzzsaw took up position at the rear of the pack of fleeing cassettes, providing an armed escort of sorts for his brothers and Glory.

Glory turned her head to peer over her shoulder at Thundercracker and Prime. Uncle T was going to fight Prime? But Prime was so strong, so frightening. She loved her uncle and thought he was the greatest fighter on the Nemesis, but was he a match for the Autobot leader?

She wouldn't find out today. For Prime only regarded Thundercracker with a curious look, then said something Glory didn't catch and sprinted away. Thundercracker watched him go, keeping his arm-guns trained on him until he was out of sight, then transformed and soared upward, circling the cassettes as they fled the battlefield.

"Whoa, never seen Prime back down from a fight," Frenzy noted. "Your uncle's got bolts, kid. Real bolts."

She felt a thrill of pride at Frenzy's statement. Of course, she'd always known Uncle T to be the best Seeker ever, but to see him challenge Optimus Prime - no, not just challenge Prime, but to have Prime run away rather than fight him - only reaffirmed it...

"Decepticons retreat!" came Megatron's cry. "Starscream, Skywarp, escort Astrotrain! Long Haul, carry the wounded - and stop whining about it! Thundercracker, collect your niece and deal with her!"

Before Glory could ask what "deal with her" meant, something grabbed her from behind and sprang into the air with her. She struggled a bit in their grip until she twisted around to glance at her captor and saw it was Thundercracker. Relaxing, she turned back around to get a Seeker's-eye view of the retreat - most Decepticons taking to the air to speed their escape, but the Constructicons and Stunticons remaining on the ground and electing to drive as far as possible. Soundwave and his cassettes were huddled in Long Haul's truck bed, and the Communications officer was cradling Rumble in his lap like a sparkling, tending to the puncture wound in his chest. He was going to be okay now...

She twisted back around to look at Thundercracker's face. He didn't even look at her as he flew - his face might as well have belonged to a statue for all the expression he wore. A knot seemed to form in her fuel tank. Uncle T only looked like that when he was upset about something...

As if in reaction to her thoughts, Thundercracker veered off from the main Decepticon force, angling to land in a small canyon. He touched down and set Glory down, though he didn't release his grip on her but only shifted it to her shoulders, turning her around to face him. His face was no longer expressionless - now it looked worried... and angry.

"Are you hurt?" he demanded sharply.

"Nuh-uh."

"Glory, what were you thinking?" he hissed, shaking her slightly. "I've told you a hundred times that you're not allowed out on the battlefield! You could get hurt, you could get captured by the Autobots! If I hadn't been there, there's no telling what Prime would have done with you!"

"But Uncle T..." she protested, trying to scrape together a defense. Uncle T had never yelled at her before, and it was almost as scary as facing down Optimus Prime.

"No buts!" he ordered. "If this happens again..." He suddenly pulled her close, almost crushing her against his cockpit. "Glory, don't scare me like that again," he murmured. "I thought I was going to lose you."

She clung to him, still confused and scared but just wanting him to be here with her. The servos in her legs suddenly went shaky as the reality of what had happened finally sank in. She'd almost been taken by Autobots... she'd almost been killed...

"How very touching," came a familiar sneer, making her tighten her grip on Thundercracker.

"Starscream, shut up," another familiar voice snarled. "Get back to your assigned task."

"What, and I'm not allowed to investigate when one of my trine goes AWOL?"

"Thundercracker commed me for permission to land, now get back to escorting Astrotrain!"

Starscream grumbled irritably, but the roar of turbines signaled his departure.

Thundercracker carefully pried Glory's arms from around his neck and stood, turning to face Megatron. Glory, too, turned toward the Decepticon commander, though she kept her optics on his feet. He was mad at her, she could tell, and after she'd tried so hard to please him, to be a good Decepticon for him...

"Glory," Thundercracker prompted, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, "you have something to tell him?"

"I'm sorry, sir," she said quietly, not daring to look up.

"And I'm sorry too, sir," Thundercracker added. "This won't happen again."

"Accepted, Glory," Megatron replied, and his tone was so even that she chanced a glance at his face. There was no anger there, not even annoyance, but a thoughtful expression that startled her more than the most ferocious snarl of rage could have.

Megatron didn't seem to notice her confusion. "As for whether this happens again, Thundercracker... that remains to be seen."

"Sir?" Thundercracker sounded just as confused as she felt right now.

"It occurs to me," said Megatron, "that if Glory is to become a contributing member of the Decepticon forces, she will need far more experience than her lessons on the Nemesis can provide. Perhaps it is time she began observing our activities firsthand. By seeing us in action, she can better determine what her function will be when she is ready for her upgrade."

"But sir, a battlefield's no place for a..." began Thundercracker.

"I am aware of that," Megatron snapped. "And arrangements shall be made. Return to the Nemesis. I shall contact Shockwave and request his aid in this."

Glory looked back and forth from Megatron to her uncle, confusion and frustration whirling around in her CPU. She got that familiar feeling that the adults were making big decisions about her, and that she not only didn't get a say about it, but she wasn't even going to know what they were talking about.

She sighed. It was like Rumble had told her some time ago - _"Sometimes being little really sucks."_


	11. Bodyguard

Had Shockwave possessed anything resembling a mouth, it just might have been hanging open in surprise when the communications link between his tower on Cybertron and the control room of the Nemesis finally opened. As it was, his single golden optic blinked a few times, the optical receptors rebooting just to be sure of what he was seeing.

The face peering back at him on the viewscreen grinned brightly. "Hello!"

Shockwave would not have survived as guardian of Cybertron for this long had he not been able to recover quickly from shock. "Where is Lord Megatron?" he requested, acting as if addressing a sparkling on Megatron's channel was perfectly normal.

"I dunno," Glory replied, shrugging. She was sitting cross-legged on the console, her toy dragon flopped across her lap, no sign of any other mech in the control room to indicate she was supposed to be there. "Hey, guess what, did Megatron tell you about the big fight yesterday?"

Shockwave considered cutting the link and waiting a bit before contacting Megatron again, then decided to keep the channel open. It was only a matter of time before someone missed the sparkling and came searching for her, and besides, Megatron's request that Shockwave contact him as soon as possible had seemed urgent enough. Better to humor the femme for the moment, he supposed...

"I received a full report on the battle at the energy station..." he began.

"It was awesome!" she gushed, cutting him off. "I got to see it up close! And I helped get the building off Ravage and Rumble when it fell down on them, and I was THIS close to Optimus Prime!" She held her hands apart to indicate a ridiculously close distance. "And Uncle T fought him, it was so cool!"

 _Uncle... T?_ Shockwave's headfins angled back in puzzled consideration. _Perhaps in reference to Thundercracker. Someone should correct this sparkling soon - it won't do for her to continue to refer to him as "T" when she receives her adult upgrade._ "Thundercracker engaged the Prime in combat?"

"Not really," she confessed. "But Prime ran away from him! It was awesome! And Uncle T was so brave..."

"Is Thundercracker there with you at this time?" inquired Shockwave.

"Nuh-uh, he's looking for me," she replied with a giggle. "He says I can't have a pet unless Megatron says it's okay. But Megatron says no organics in the base! Can I have a pet, Shockwave? I promise to take good care of it and clean up after it and give it energon and love it..."

"I must speak with Megatron," Shockwave interrupted. "It is important. Do you know when he will return?"

"Nuh-uh." She picked up the dragon toy and slung it over her shoulder. "I'm supposed to have lessons with the Stunticons soon. They're fun. They have races all the time and let me ride on them, and Motormaster's really funny when he's angry. And Dead End's reading me a book - I think it's called _1984_ or something. I don't understand some of the words, though, like 'doublespeak' or 'prole.' What's a prole, Shockwave? And what's doublespeak? Is that where you say stuff twice, like Shrapnel does?"

"I haven't read the book, so I would not know," Shockwave replied, his patience rapidly reaching it's end. "Is there an adult in the room with you that I may speak with?"

"Nuh-uh," Glory replied. "Soundwave's still in the medbay helping Hook fix Rumble. He got hurt really bad yesterday, but Hook says he'll be okay soon. I don't think Hook was happy about that, he kinda growled when he said it..." She cocked her head as if to look at him from a better angle. "What happened to your face?"

"What happened to my... this IS my face."

"But where's your mouth? And why do you only have one optic? How do you talk..."

"Glory!"

Glory turned to look offscreen. "Uh-oh!" she squeaked, and leaped down from the console and vanished from view. There were sounds of a scuffle, then a triumphant "Gotcha!" from Thundercracker and a snarled "Deal with her!" from Megatron. Then the silver Decepticon leader appeared on the screen, looking stern and composed as if nothing had happened.

"Shockwave, we have a matter to discuss regarding the sparkling," he said without preamble.

"What is the concern, Megatron?" Shockwave inquired. "From my admittedly limited observation just now, she seems in good repair and fully recovered from the trauma of the attack at the laboratories."

"This concerns her future role among the Decepticons," Megatron clarified. "She cannot and will not remain a sparkling forever, and the sooner we can complete her education and training and prepare her for an adult upgrade, the better. For this purpose, I have deemed it necessary that she accompany us on the battlefield."

"My lord, a battlefield is no place for a child..."

"It is the only way for her to observe battle up close and see how each unit and team in the Decepticon army functions. That way she will be better able to select her own body type and function when she receives her upgrade."

That seemed logical enough. No amount of datafile-study or training-room exercises could fully prepare a soldier for combat, after all. It was one thing to fire at a target on a rifle range, quite another to try taking down an enemy soldier who was just as determined to see you fall in battle. "How will we ensure her safety on the battlefield, though? She has no battle training yet."

"That is where your services are needed, Shockwave. I need a bodyguard for the child."

"A bodyguard?"

"Are your audials malfunctioning? A bodyguard, a mech designed and programmed to protect and defend. And as I cannot spare a soldier of my own to constantly watch over her, it falls on you, Shockwave, to either select a likely candidate for the sparkling's bodyguard or have one created."

Shockwave saluted the screen. "As you command, Lord Megatron! The bodyguard will be bound for Earth by way of the space bridge within two weeks."

"One week, Shockwave. That is generous enough." Megatron allowed the slightest of smiles to break through his stern demeanor. "Do not fail me."

"Failure is never an option, my lord."

Megatron nodded, and the screen went dark.

 _Slag it all,_ thought Shockwave, turning toward his personal computer and sitting down before it. One week to find and train a bodyguard for the child? The task was impossible - merely finding the most likely candidate among the ranks of the Decepticon army would take twice that long. He would have better luck creating a bodyguard from the ground up, designing and programming the perfect mech to watch over and guard the young Decepticon.

Pulling a holo-stylus out of subspace, he began jotting notes and sketching a basic outline for the mech's frame, the glyphs and lines glowing greenly in the air over his holo-table. The bodyguard would have to be carefully designed. A big, bulky mech bristling with weaponry would likely scare Glory, or at the very least put her off enough that she would try to avoid the mech, making it difficult for the bodyguard to do his job. He would have to be powerful, but not obviously so, and any weaponry would have to be concealed within his frame until such a time as it was needed. Most importantly, he would need to look non-threatening enough that Glory would not mind his constant presence...

He considered the half-done sketch before him, musing over his recent conversation with the sparkling... and a seemingly trivial bit of information he had gleaned from said conversation. Then he opened his database and commanded it to call up all files dealing with Terran fauna.

* * *

"Uncle T, can I have a pet?"

Thundercracker suppressed a sigh and looked up from his computer. Glory seemed to have a knack for knowing when he was about to start a raid with his guild, as well as the incredibly lousy timing to ask questions and make requests during said raids. His fellow guild members had taken to teasing him about it, and called it "playing Daddy" whenever he announced he was AFK to talk to her.

"Glory, remember what Megatron said," Thundercracker reminded her. "No pets."

"Nuh-uh!" she corrected triumphantly. "He just said no organics! He didn't say no pets!"

His pent-up sigh escaped, and he turned to face Glory. The femme was sitting cross-legged on his berth, clutching Dragon in her arms and grinning impishly at him.

"Megatron doesn't want animals loose in the base, Glory," he reminded her. "You remember what happened with the octopus? Or the shark? Or that weird blue thing with the gills?"

"I'll be really careful this time," she promised. "I'll keep it in a cage."

 _Until you feel sorry for it and set it free in Hook's workshop?_ Thundercracker thought perversely. Aloud he said "The answer's still no, Glory. No animals in the base."

Glory went quiet, and after a moment Thundercracker returned his attentions to the screen. He'd been tagged as healer for this raid, so it was imperitive that he keep a close eye on all his teammates' health...

"What about Soundwave?"

"Huh?" He jerked his head around to face Glory.

"What about Soundwave? He's got a bat and a kitty and two birds! Those are animals!"

"They're not animals," Thundercracker corrected. "They're mechs who look like animals and work for Soundwave."

A beat of silence, then a reply: "Then I want a mech who looks like an animal and works for me!"

Thundercracker groaned and pressed the heel of his hand between his optics. Why was she so relentless about this topic? It wasn't as if she lacked in playmates, after all - she had the Stunticons and cassetes to hang out with and Swindle and Skywarp to spoil her rotten and Hook and Megatron to annoy whenever she wished... Why suddenly this fixation with getting a pet?

"Please, Uncle T?" She tilted her head to one side and offered him her most pleading expression.

"Glory, Megatron has said no, and I'm not going to contradict him," he said firmly. "Maybe he'll change his mind later, but I wouldn't count on it."

Glory huffed and flopped backwards on his berth. "No fair."

Relieved that she'd dropped the subject for now, Thundercracker turned back to the screen... and found an angry rant waiting for him.

_Anklebiter: WTF Thunder?! We got wiped! Where were you?_

_RollOfThunder: I'm sorry! I was distracted._

_NakeMaco: An AFK's always nice, n00b._

_Anklebiter: And we had him down to 10 too! Thanks a lot!_

_RollOfThunder: I said I was sorry. It won't happen again, I promise._

_Starsaber: Never mind, let me relog in as my druid and take over for him._

_IAmVoldemort: No, let's just run it again. You with us for another go, Thunder?_

Thundercracker was about to type an affirmitive reply when Megatron's voice over the radio cut into his thoughts: "Thundercracker, report to the docking bay at once! Bring Glory."

"Yes, sir. ETA five minutes." He turned back to the keyboard and resumed typing.

_RollOfThunder: Sorry, guys, emergency. Go without me._

_Starsaber: Okay, take care and be safe._

_Anklebiter: Anyone else notice he gets called away on a lot of emergencies?_

_IAmVoldemort: Shut up, Anklebiter._

Thundercracker ignored "Anklebiter" and simply logged out. "Glory, come with me. Megatron wants to see us."

"Why?" she inquired, sliding off the berth and dashing to his side, dragging Dragon after her by one hind leg.

"We'll find out when we get there, won't we?"

Quietly Thundercracker puzzled over possible reasons why Megatron would want to see the two of them. It had been over a week since that circuit-wracking battle where Glory had played stowaway - surely if he or she faced punishment, Megatron would have done so much earlier. He wasn't the type to delay a punishment just to watch someone squirm. When he disciplined his troops, it was either immediately or as soon as possible. Unless said punishment was something that required preperation of some kind...

The docking bay was packed - though obviously not by Megatron's orders, judging by his annoyed expression. Over half the crew of the Nemesis was standing around, gawking at the Decepticon shuttle that was currently docking. The craft settled with a slight thump and went still.

"Nice design," Blitzwing noted with a grin. "Jealous much, Astro?"

"Shut up," Astrotrain grumped, though his grouchy glower gave away his envy of the sleek starcraft, far superior to his clunky human-style shuttle design.

"What's going on?" asked Thundercracker, reaching down and grabbing Glory's hand to ensure they didn't get seperated in the crowd.

"A new soldier for the Decepticon Empire has arrived," Megatron replied, pitching his voice to carry over the chatter of the other troops. "A bodyguard for Glory."

Thundercracker flickered his optics in surprise. "A bodyguard?"

"You cannot always be there to protect her, Thundercracker," Megatron informed him. "You have other duties that you cannot shirk. And if Glory is to accompany us on the battlefield..."

"You've gone corrupted in the processors!" Starscream shrieked, optics blazing with outrage. "Glory fighting the Autobots? What's next, recruiting new soldiers from used-car lots..."

"Shut up!" Megatron snapped, swinging an arm back. Starscream dodged the blow, but backed down anyhow, grumbling.

"I get to go with you guys when you fight?" Glory said wonderingly, optics aglow with delight. "For real?"

"It is time you saw us in action, Glory," Megatron replied. "You must learn all you can about the Decepticon way, after all."

Thundercracker couldn't seem to work his vocalizer for a moment. Glory on the battlefield? His first instinct was to scream "No!" and argue with the commander. She was far too young! She had been incredibly lucky to escape that first battle with no injury, but to make her a regular presence on the battlefield? If she wasn't killed by a stray shot or an especially trigger-happy Autobot, she would be captured and taken away. Fear gnawed at his fuel tank at the thought of never seeing Glory again...

Megatron arched an optic ridge. "You have a problem with this, Thundercracker?"

"Isn't there another way for her to learn about warfare?" he asked. "Watching holovids or..."

"A poor substitute for first-hand observation," Megatron said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I want her to watch us in action, to observe all units in action that she may make an educated decision once it comes time for her to select a function. For that purpose, Shockwave has created a bodyguard for the sparkling, that she may remain safe during her observations."

For all that he wanted to argue further, Thundercracker couldn't. Everything Megatron said made perfect sense. That didn't stop a vital part of his CPU from disagreeing vehemently.

"Enough talk," advised Scrapper. "Let us see this new creation of Shockwave's for ourselves." His tone of voice indicated he was expecting a mech of shoddy quality given who his creator was.

Megatron nodded in agreement and addressed the shuttle. "Let your passenger disembark."

"Yes, sir." The shuttle-mech opened his hatches.

For a moment, the only thing visible to the eager onlookers was a pair of glowing scarlet optics in the darkness of the shuttle's interior, oval in shape and curiously slanted at the corners. Said optics flickered once, twice, taking in the surroundings with a predator's wary gaze. Then a snort of the air vents, as if satisfied by what he saw, and the mech paced forward and into the light.

Starscream cracked up laughing. "THAT'S your mighty bodyguard, Megatron?"

A few other mechs also dissolved into snickers... and in Wildrider and Mixmaster's cases hysterical cackling. Others gaped open-mouthed or shook their heads in dismay. Even Megatron frowned, optics narrowing, at the sight.

Glory clapped delightedly. "Horsey!"

Thundercracker had to bite his lip plates to keep from laughing aloud. The mech in question was, just as Glory had put it, an oversized mechanical copy of a Terran horse. He was fairly small - taller than Ravage, of course, but still short enough that his shoulder came up to a Seeker's waist. His body was a deep red with gold accents, including golden hooves, tail, and a crest that was likely meant to mimic a true horse's mane. He moved with a steady grace, setting each hoof down carefully as if threading his way through a minefield. When he reached Megatron, he paused and dipped his head and forequarters low, as if bowing.

Starscream continued to laugh. "A mighty and powerful bodyguard indeed, Megatron!" he crowed sarcastically. "The Autobots wouldn't dare come close to the sparkling with him around!"

Megatron didn't reply. He scowled darkly at the shuttle, though Thundercracker suspected said scowl was intended for Shockwave rather than the transport mech. "Have you any other passengers?"

"No sir, that's it," the shuttle-mech replied.

"I like him!" Glory said enthusiastically, and she dashed forward to look at the mech up close. He immediately lowered his head, allowing the young femme to wrap her arms around his neck.

"Glory, get back here!" ordered Thundercracker. "Megatron's not done inspecting him yet..."

"You don't need an inspection to see that Shockwave failed you miserably, Megatron," Starscream cackled. "Or is playing a sick joke on you. Want us to haul this thing to the scrapheap?"

And the Decepticon Air Commander reached forward to pull Glory away from the horse, or perhaps to grab the horse and yank him in the direction of the waste disposal units. No one was sure, and Starscream refused to clarify his actions afterward. Whatever his intentions, he never laid a hand on either of them.

Glory yelped and scurried backward as the horse-mech erupted into action with a very horse-like scream, rearing on his hind legs and lashing out with his forehooves. Starscream howled in agony as the mech's feet impacted against his plating, leaving deep U-shaped dents and scratches. Even as Thundercracker grabbed his niece and dragged him away from the melee he couldn't help but stare as the horse-mech struck again, one hoof catching the red-and-white Seeker in the cockpit and leaving a starburst of cracks.

"Stand down!" bellowed Megatron, leveling his fusion cannon at the horse-mech. "Stand down at once!"

Immediately the mech dropped down to all fours again, gave a casual shake of his head, and regarded Megatron calmly as if nothing had happened. The Decepticon commander lowered his cannon, gazing upon the new arrival with a new sense of respect.

"Can you transform?"

The voice issuing from the equine throat was a deep, mechanical croak. "Yes."

"Do so now."

Once again the mech reared, but this time his body unfolded and rearranged itself into a proper robot form. His lower set of limbs remained equine, giving him a strange satyr-like appearance, but the horse-head dropped to his chest and remained there like a breastplate, and his forelegs folded back on his shoulders like a queer set of wings. The same slanted, almost animal optics his alt mode possessed remained in robot mode, and his square-jawed silver face was framed by a boxy red helm with two horn-like protusions sweeping back at the sides, almost like laid-back ears. In one hand he carried a glittering golden scimitar, and Thundercracker realized the weapon also served him as the tail of his beast mode.

"Ugly sucker," muttered Skywarp. "Like him better in critter form."

"Shut up," hissed Thundercracker.

Megatron gave a slow chuckle, a slight grin on his lips. "Excellent. Shockwave knew what he was doing, then. A bodyguard who does the proper job - and yet wears a form that Glory will accept. He will do nicely."

"Nicely?" shrilled Starscream. "He attacked me!"

"If you hadn't provoked him, you would not have been attacked," Megatron snapped.

The mech turned to face Starscream, narrowing his optics, and lifted one lip plate to snarl threateningly at the Seeker. Starscream glowered back.

"Your name and function," Megatron demanded.

"No name," he croaked. "Bodyguard. Protect Glory."

"You have no other function?"

The mech shrugged. "Protect Glory," he repeated.

"Primus, someone shorted him in the CPU department," Rumble muttered.

Megatron opened his mouth as if about to say something else, then paused and glanced down at Glory, who was insistently tapping on his leg as if to get his attention.

"Can I keep him?" she said in a pleading tone. "Uncle T says that you said no animals in the base, but I'll take good care of him! I promise!"

Megatron chuckled. "You needn't worry, Glory. _This_ one you may keep."

She gave a whoop of excitement. "Can I name him?"

"If you wish."

Thundercracker gave Glory's new bodyguard a skeptical glance. The mech returned the stare, as if unsure whether to classify him as a threat or not. Privately Thundercracker wondered if this plot Megatron and Shockwave had cooked up between themselves was such a good idea after all.

* * *

"TC, you got a bogey on your six!" Skywarp radioed.

"I know, I know!" snapped Thundercracker, corkscrewing to avoid Slingshot's mortar fire. "Let me handle it and shut your yap! And check your three-o-clock, you got a wasp ready to sting you!"

"Powerglide couldn't hit a citybot at this dist... yow!" Skywarp wobbled in the air and filled the Decepticon broadband with curses as the A-10 blasted a hole in his left wing.

Thundercracker wanted to laugh, but instead he plunged down in a steep dive, aiming for the rock formations far below. He slalomed through the stone columns and arches, practically daring the young Aerialbot to follow him and copy his maneuvers. Slingshot took the bait, continuing to fire as he darted between the wind-carved pillars. The Autobot flier would not be shaken, even when he clipped a wing against the side of an archway and almost spun out of control.

"Outta my way, Thunder-butt!"

Ramjet suddenly swung into view, tearing forward on a collision course. Thundercracker rolled to the side, missing Ramjet by such a narrow margin that he could feel the white Seeker's backwash against his underside. Slingshot wasn't so lucky - Ramjet's nosecone ripped into his side, shearing off a wing and leaving a gaping tear that poured out smoke and fluids. The Aerialbot fell like a brick.

"Nice one, Ramjet," Thundercracker told him.

"Thanks," Ramjet replied. "Won't be here to save your aft every time, though." And he veered away.

Thundercracker circled upward, scanning the battlefield. On the ground, the Stunticons, Reflector, and Soundwave and his cassettes were tussling with a pack of Autobots, while Devastator and Bruticus grappled with the Dinobots and Defensor. Megatron and Optimus Prime were locked in one of their typical grudge matches, exchanging brutal blows that would have knocked a lesser mech senseless. The Seekers tangled with the Aerialbots and the few other flying mechs among the Autobots, once in awhile diving low to strafe the ground-based Autobots. All in all, nothing out of the ordinary...

Except two gleaming forms seated on a plateau far below, watching the action - one scarlet and gold, the other silver and purple. Forms Thundercracker was keeping a close eye on even as he battled the Autobots.

It had taken Glory four days to name her new "pet," a process that had been complicated by the fact that Rumble and Frenzy had scoured the Internet for as many famous horse names as they could and presented the entire list to her in an effort to "help." Glory had tried out every name on the list, and every time Thundercracker happened upon the two of them she was calling him by a different designation - from Man O' War to Seabiscuit to Black Beauty (a name that made no sense seeing as he hadn't a speck of the color on him) to Kantor to Bree. The horse-mech didn't seem to have an opinion on any of the names, and answered to one as readily as the other.

To everyone's surprise, it was Dead End who finally suggested the name that Glory liked the best, and the name that would be put down in the personnel logs as the bodyguard's official designation - Wildfire. (Later Thundercracker would learn that Dead End had gotten the name from a human "country" song about a little girl who froze to death while searching for her pet horse in a blizzard. He was going to have to talk to the Porsche about sharing his morbid tastes with Glory...)

It had quickly become apparent that Wildfire, though quite swift and powerful for his size, didn't have the intelligence that Primus granted a maintenance drone. When he spoke (which was rare) it was in sentences consisting of only two or three words - four if the listener was lucky - and almost everything he said revolved around Glory in some way. He followed her constantly, remaining in horse mode unless another mech did something he interpreted as an attack against Glory... at which point he would transform and go into berserker mode, doing his level best to kill the other mech until Megatron could be summoned to order him to stand down, for Wildfire's programming only allowed him to obey orders from the Decepticon commander or from Glory. Thundercracker might have felt sorry for him, but he didn't think Wildfire was intelligent enough to realize that he was very much inferior to the rest of the Decepticons, seeing as his only priority in life was Glory.

Glory, for her part, adored Wildfire. It soon became a common sight to see Wildfire galloping full-speed down the corridors of the Nemesis, Glory on his back and clinging to his neck with shrieks of delight. The horse-mech didn't seem to object in the least when she insisted on painting designs on his chassis or enlisting his aid as a "pack horse" when Rumble and Frenzy needed prank supplies hauled someplace. And though Thundercracker was adamant about not allowing Wildfire and Glory to share a berth, he recharged in horse mode at her bedside every night, a concession that Glory had finally wrested from her uncle after much haggling and pleading.

Other mechs dealt with the new arrival in their own ways, some enthusiastic, others not so much. The Stunticons, at first put off by Glory's newfound "pet," realized the entertainment value Wildfire could provide the first time Breakdown got thrown halfway across the room after giving Glory a friendly slap across the shoulders, and now impromptu wrestling matches between Wildfire and some Stunticon or other were a frequent occurence. The Combaticons and most of the Seekers ignored him or kept their distance from him in the corridors, though Skywarp found it perversely amusing to see how close he could get to Glory before Wildfire started glowering and snarling (an amusement that had cost him a severed hand and gashes to his wings, but that hadn't deterred him from continuing to pester the bodyguard). The cassettes were thrilled to have yet another helping hand in their plots and schemes, and they never hesitated to use Wildfire for any necessary "grunt work" in setting up a prank or trap.

Thundercracker, meanwhile, had serious doubts about Wildfire. It was one thing to take down a Decepticon who had no intention of actually doing harm to Glory, but quite another entirely to face and defeat an Autobot with murder or capture on their CPU...

Speak of the Unmaker! A red Autobot - Ironhide, from the look of it - had just climbed onto the plateau, directly behind Glory and Wildfire and so remaining out of their sight. He crept up on the child and horse, gun drawn but not raised to fire, his other hand out with fingers spread as if ready to make a grab. Immediately Thundercracker turned on a wingtip and prepared to dive, arming his incidenary guns...

At some sound from Ironhide - perhaps a squeaking joint or a crunch of gravel underfoot - Glory turned around, spotted him, and let out a high-pitched scream. And Wildfire went amok.

As Thundercracker watched, dumbfounded, Ironhide yowled and staggered back as Wildfire's first strike, a double-blow from his forehooves, shattered his windshield. Unsatisfied with that damage, Wildfire transformed, his scimitar springing into his hand, and laid into Ironhide with a terrible bellow. The Autobot raised his gun, only for a savage blow to split it in two from muzzle to stock. Dropping the mangled weapon, he attempted to grab Wildfire's sword-arm to stay his next blow, but he only succeeded in redirecting it so that the strike meant to cleave his head open instead buried itself in his shoulder. Face twisted in a snarl, Wildfire tried to yank the weapon free with one hand, continuing to pummel Ironhide in the chest and abdominal plates with the other.

It took every ounce of Thundercracker's willpower to not dive down at that instant and snatch Glory away. This monster, fierce and oil-thirsty as a Dinobot, was entrusted with the safety of his neice? Were Megatron and Shockwave truly out of their processors?

At last Ironhide staggered away, dripping energon and other fluids as he half-ran, half-limped away to safety. Wildfire pursued him a few steps, but once it was obvious that the Autobot was fleeing for good, he wiped his blade clean on the ground before transforming back to horse mode. He ambled over to Glory's side as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, bending his head low for a "good boy" pat from Glory.

"Thundercracker!"

He winced at Starscream's shriek over the radio. "Yes, sir?"

"Where the slag are you? Get over here and help us chase these Seeker wannabes back to their volcano!"

"Copy, sir!" And he turned and followed Starscream, though not without a final long glance back at Glory and Wildfire. The bodyguard had indeed done his job well... but somehow that just unsettled Thundercracker even more.

* * *

"Ya gotta be kiddin' me!" Ironhide barked, sitting bolt upright in his medical berth - or would have had Ratchet not been gripping his shoulders to hold him down.

"I'm not joking, Ironhide," Optimus Prime said sternly. "All Autobots were ordered to not interfere with the Decepticon sparkling. You received that order, and you still chose to disobey it. For that reason you're confined to the brig for four days once Ratchet repairs you."

"The kid was out on the battlefield, Prime!" Slingshot snapped from his own berth, where First Aid and Wheeljack were busy reattaching his wing. "Whaddaya want us to - ow, watch it! - to do, leave her to get creamed?"

Prime shook his head. "If Ironhide's report is correct, it seems the Decepticons have taken proper measures to protect her. Why she was on the battlefield in the first place I can only speculate, though Prowl has probably come up with several logical deductions by now." That got a slight chuckle from Ironhide and Ratchet. "I say again - unless we are absolutely sure that she is in mortal danger among the Decepticons, we will continue to leave her alone. Am I understood, Ironhide?"

"Understood, sir," Ironhide grumbled.

"Slingshot?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," the Aerialbot grumped, wincing as Wheeljack soldered another connection.

Prime nodded his regards to Ratchet and walked out, sidestepping Swoop as he hurried in to help his mentor.

Once out of sight and audial-shot of the medbay, Prime allowed a frustrated sigh to hiss from his vents. So the sudden appearance of this child on the battlefield hadn't just been a fluke - the Decepticons truly meant to make a warrior of her, and were preparing her for combat from an early age. That was not a comforting thought.

As he walked toward his office, Prime recalled that memorable battle at the power plant, where he had spotted the sparkling in the company of Soundwave's cassettes... and been threatened by Thundercracker when he had gotten too close. Judging by that reaction from the Seeker, it wasn't too big a stretch of logic to think that the sparkling was in his care - though whether he was her creator or simply a caretaker he wasn't sure. And neither Thundercracker nor the sparkling would likely volunteer that information if he inquired. Indeed, that terrified expression the child had offered him had only driven home Prime's theory that an Autobot rescue of the child would only traumatize her badly.

 _"Take care of her,"_ he had told Thundercracker that day, just before leaving the Decepticon to whisk his charge to safety. _"Our sparklings are too precious to lose - no matter what side their creators are on."_ Now he could only wonder if his advice had been heeded... and whether it had been Thundercracker's choice to disregard it or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Wildfire is named after is a real song -- "Wildfire" by Michael Martin Murphy. Don't listen to it unless you want to have a good cry...


	12. Journal

"Uncle T, when am I gonna be old enough to go fight with you?"

Thundercracker glanced down at the young femme at his side, his stride slowing briefly as he considered her question. "Not for a long time, Glory. You need a lot more training first, and you need your adult upgrade. You can't fight without weapons or an alt mode, after all."

"But I have weapons," she insisted. "I got my arm spikes. I can help."

"You need a lot more than just your spikes, Glory. You need to know how to shoot a gun, how to operate a cannon or missile launcher, how to fly, how to set up or escape a trap or an ambush. There's a lot you need to know to go out on the battlefield and fight. Just be patient and you'll get your chance someday."

It was just shortly after the evening energon break, and Thundercracker was leading Glory back to the residential sector of the Nemesis. Skywarp had arranged another movie night with Glory, and she was eager to accept the invitation. Thundercracker would normally use the movie nights as an opportunity to catch up on his reports or run a raid on World of Warcraft, but tonight he was considering joining them. They shipped out tomorrow for another mission, after all, and he wanted to spend as much time with Glory as possible first.

He glanced behind them to see if Wildfire was still trailing them. The horse-mech strolled slowly behind them, seemingly unconcerned with anything they were saying. Thundercracker didn't like leaving Glory here alone with Wildfire, but this mission was going to be too risky for Glory, even with her bodyguard. Besides, it wasn't as if they would be the only two mechs remaining at the base.

"Where you guys going again?" Glory asked.

"Mount Rainier," Thundercracker replied. "It's a volcano in what the humans call Washington. The Constructicons are going to install a device that will let us collect energy from the volcanic activity, and the Seekers are going to guard them while they work. We'll be back before too long, though - Megatron says a week at most."

"Why can't I come? I'll be good. And I wanna see the volcano go off."

"It's probably not going to go off while we're there, Glory. And there won't be anything to do while you're there. You'd be bored. At least here you'll have Wildfire and Rumble and Frenzy to play with. And Swindle will take care of you. Just promise you'll mind what he says while I'm gone, all right?"

"Okay," she replied, sounding none too thrilled at the prospect.

"And if you're good," he promised, "I'll take you flying when I get back, all right?"

That provoked a nod and a happy giggle from her. One of her favorite activities with her uncle was flying - or at least, he flew while carrying her in his arms, diving and looping and twisting through the air while she shrieked in delight, begging him to go higher. They had to keep their flights over the ocean to avoid as many prying human and Autobot gazes as possible, but it was still a wonderful treat for her. And Thundercracker hoped it would instill in her the same love of the sky he harbored... and perhaps encourage her dreams to become a Seeker like her mother and uncle.

On a whim Thundercracker suddenly reached down and scooped Glory up, holding her up over his head. "Look, up in the sky! It's a cyberhawk! It's a tetrajet! No, it's Seeker Glory!"

Glory squealed happily and extended her arms like wings as Thundercracker ran down the hall with her, swerving from side to side like a jet slaloming through the sky. He laughed as he "flew" her down the corridor, making a buzzing drone with his vocalizer to imitate the roar of thrusters for her. Wildfire stopped and braced all four legs as if preparing to spring, but once he saw the blue Seeker meant Glory no harm, he simply continued to follow, his long equine face somehow managing to look bored and even a little exasperated with the proceedings.

They might have proceeded in this manner all the way to the Seeker's quarters had they not rounded the last turn to come face to face with another mech. Thundercracker skidded to a halt and fell silent, suddenly wishing he had Skywarp's teleportation abilities or even Mirage's cloaking device.

"Hi, Megatron!" Glory said brightly. "I'm flying!"

"So I see," Megatron replied, scowling at their antics. "See me in my office, Thundercracker. Immediately."

"Yes, sir," he replied, and quickly lowered Glory to the floor. "You and Skywarp start the movie without me, Glory. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Okay." She dashed into the black Seeker's quarters, Wildfire slipping in close behind. Once the door shut behind those two, Thundercracker hurried after Megatron. What did he want? Was playing around in the corridors THAT much of an infraction of the rules?

Inside his commander's office, Thundercracker saluted and stood at attention. "Yes, sir?"

"At ease," Megatron ordered. "How fares Glory's training?"

Thundercracker felt his wing joints tense at Megatron's choice of words, but he tried to give no outward signs of his sudden nervousness. "Her education's going well," he replied. "She's bright for her age, and I've had no complaints from any of her instructors regarding her performance. If things progress at this rate, she could be eligible for the Polyhex Academy soon."

Megatron's optic ridges rose slightly - evidently Thundercracker's choice of _education_ over _training_ was not lost on him. But he said nothing on the subject. "Excellent. Then she is well on her way to becoming a valuable asset to the Decepticon forces."

"Sir," was all he said in reply, giving a small nod.

Megatron seemed to have no more to say on that subject - apparently just knowing that Glory was progressing well in her studies was enough for him. He turned to his desk, and among the neat stacks of datapads there Thundercracker caught sight of a smaller, more battered datapad that set apart from the others. This the Decepticon commander took and held up for the Seeker's inspection.

"Shockwave has sent me this," he informed Thundercracker. "It was found in the ruins of the Polyhex laboratories during the cleanup efforts. It has been identified as belonging to Windblade."

Thundercracker felt his jaw drop slightly.

"Both Shockwave and I have already searched the contents, and found it to be nothing more than a personal journal. It is of no use to the Decepticon Empire." He laid it in Thundercracker's palm. "Therefore, as Windblade's co-creation, it now goes to you to do with as you see fit."

Thundercracker stared at the datapad, too stunned to reply. After all this time, he had never expected to see or hear anything more of his sister. Her body had already been laid to rest alongside her bondmate's within the Decepticon tombs, and he had automatically assumed all her possessions had been destroyed with the labs. To suddenly have something as personal as her journals in his hands... it was more than a little overwhelming.

"And Thundercracker?"

He jerked his head up. "Sir?"

"From now on, confine your horseplay with your niece to your quarters or the sparring chambers," Megatron said warningly. "We don't need two sparklings running around the halls."

"Understood."

"Dismissed," Megatron said crisply.

"Yes, sir." Thundercracker saluted and left the office.

On his way to Skywarp's quarters, he continued to study the 'pad, his fingers skimming over the scratched surface of the datapad. Somehow it bothered him somewhat that Megatron and Shockwave had already been digging through Windblade's journal, searching her private records. But he tried to justify it, telling himself that they had simply been looking for information to benefit the Decepticon cause - a scientist might have something valuable in their journals, after all, such as information on a project. He couldn't quite shake the discomfort, but he was at least able to put it in the back of his processor for the moment.

He tucked the datapad away in subspace. As soon as he had the chance, he would be studying this find. He knew little of what had happened to his sister in the four million years they had been separated - perhaps this could fill in that painful gap.

* * *

"I HATE THIS FRAGGIN' PLANET!" screeched Ramjet, slamming his fist into wall of rock behind him.

Dirge sighed. "Yes, Ramjet, you've been saying that," he grumbled. "Every day since we came to this Primus-forsaken rock. Sometimes twice daily."

"And it's still true," snarled the white Seeker. "Fraggin' organic life forms crawling around everywhere or getting sucked into your turbines, fraggin' dirt settling in your joints, fraggin' rain rusting your servos..."

"Don't you know any descriptive words besides 'fragging?'" demanded Starscream.

"Shut up, fragger," Ramjet snapped.

Ever since Megatron, the Seekers, and the Constructicons had arrived at the volcano two days ago, it had rained hard and nonstop, almost as if the very weather itself had sided with the Autobots. The constant downpour had delayed the Constructicons' plans to set up their energy-collecting equipment at the peak of the mountain - what was rain farther down the slopes would inevitably be sleet or snow higher up, which would wreak havoc with the delicate equipment. So they had dug into the side of the mountain and stayed there, waiting out the storm so they could get back to work. But while Hook and his cronies huddled away in their relatively dry burrow, Megatron had stationed the Seekers out in the open, where they could keep an optic out for any approaching threats. This didn't sit well with the Seekers, who were all dripping wet and becoming edgier by the hour from their shared misery.

"Honestly, what Autobot's gonna attack in this stuff?" demanded Skywarp, peering through the curtain of rain with a hand over his optics to shield them. "If it's bad for us, it's worse for them - tires and wet ground don't mix."

"And even if they attacked, what can we do about it?" huffed Dirge. "We can't fly in this slag, not without rogue air currents blowing us clear into the next human territory. And how do we expect to shoot when we can hardly see past our own nosecones? Suppose we should just be thankful there's no lightning yet..."

As if on cue the mountainside was illuminated by a flash of blue-white light, followed only two seconds later by an audial-shattering roar.

"You just had to say it, Dirge," Starscream complained, pressing himself against the side of the mountain to make less of a target of himself.

"All of you, stop your complaining!" Megatron growled. "This storm cannot last forever. Once it ends, we return to our mission. Until then, stop acting like sparklings."

The Seekers grumbled but subsided... except Thrust, who had never been complaining in the first place. This wasn't because he enjoyed the rain or felt complaining was beneath him - it was because he was deep in recharge, leaning against a wall of sheer rock and his vocalizer making the buzzing "snore" of a mech who had dropped offline without turning said vocalizer off first. Megatron only offered Thrust a disgusted look and a slight kick that did nothing to awaken him.

Thundercracker, for his part, wasn't feeling any better about the rain than any of his comrades. If anything, the feel of water droplets trickling down the planes of his wings tickled annoyingly, and rivulets of the fluid kept running into his optics and blurring his vision. But he was opting to keep his mouth shut about it. For one thing, Megatron was already dangerously close to losing his temper, and he didn't want to be the one who pushed it over the edge. And for another thing, he was looking for an opportunity to slip away from the group without attracting anyone's attention - something that would be difficult to do if he managed to get sucked into their bickering.

When it seemed like Megatron was looking the other way and most of his comrades were wrapped up enough in their own misery to ignore him, he got to his feet and began making his way a little farther up the mountainside, picking each step carefully so he didn't end up sliding halfway down the mountain. He wanted a little privacy for this, and not too far up there was an overhanging ledge that could shelter a mech from the worst of the elements and grant him a little solitude.

Once he was settled Thundercracker activated the datapad, finding the entry where he had left off - nearly a hundred years before the crew of the Nemesis had awakened on Earth.

_Piston says Shockwave is due anytime now for another update on the latest project. And of course, he pulled me aside during our energon break this evening and pleaded with me not to "do anything rash," whatever that means. Honestly, set the central computer passwords to "SHOCKWAVENEEDSAHUG" once and people think you're incapable of being serious..._

That sparked a laugh from Thundercracker. Typical Windblade - always thinking authority figures needed some cheering up. He wondered how Shockwave had reacted to discovering what the new password was.

_Wonderful news - we've been approved for a sparkling! Piston says not to get our hopes up - the waiting list is abominably long, and military officers always get top priority, but still, to be granted the chance to gain a spark from Vector Sigma... We've wanted a child for so long, and now it looks like we'll finally have that opportunity! I wonder what we'll name him... or her, if we decide we want a femme. I think Piston favors having a daughter, but I'm ecstatic either way. I wonder if it's too early to start designing the sparkling's shell..._

Thundercracker bookmarked that entry - when Glory was older, he wanted to share parts of this journal with her, especially entries that pertained to her. He thought she might enjoy reading what her mother thought of her, even before she was sparked.

_Primus, if I have to fill out one more of these forms, I'll scream. If I had known how much filework was involved in gaining access to a key to Vector Sigma... but it's worth it, I keep telling myself, it will all be worth it. Once I have our child in my arms it will all be worth it._

_In other news - the Space Bridge project has finally been approved for a prototype! The entire Polyhex Labs facility took the day off and celebrated with high-grade and dancing. This technology could very well win the war for us... and perhaps Cybertron will be a safe place for us to raise our child._

Whether or not the space bridge would win the war for the Decepticons remained to be seen... but he couldn't help a pang of regret that Windblade never lived to see peace return to Cybertron. He read on.

_Piston's lab assistant, Bolt, made our decision for us - we want a femme. Bolt brought his daughter to work to show off, and she is such an adorable thing. Even that stuck-up engineer Sidewinder unfrosted enough to say hello and talk to her. She's very shy, but she was fascinated by Piston's work and asked so many questions. Perhaps she'll end up a chemist too, who knows?_

_But in the meantime, we have indicated in the filework that we would prefer a femme sparkling. Piston says if she turns out just like me, he'll be the happiest mech alive. I told him to be careful what he wished for..._

He laughed. Piston's wish wasn't _quite_ granted - Glory wasn't the one who planned most of the pranks she was involved in, and her attention span wasn't nearly as long as her mother's (though her level of maturity could have something to do with that). But she was similar enough to her mother that she must have given Piston his share of CPU-aches.

_Bad news - Bolt's daughter has passed away. He found her deactivated in her berth this morning. The medics say there were flaws in her spark chamber that caused energy to leak out faster than it could be replenished. Bolt is devastated._

_I'm suddenly terrified - terrified of losing our daughter young somehow. What if we make a mistake in designing her shell, one that kills her or leaves her crippled? What if we lose track of her and she wanders off and is hurt - or worse, abducted by slavers, or even the Autobots? What if we lose her in this war? I couldn't bear it. My spark would shatter like glass if anything happened to her._

_Piston is doing his best to comfort me, but I still can't shake this terror. Should we forego bringing a sparkling into such a dangerous universe? Is it truly fair to us? To our child? Should we wait? I plead to Primus or whatever force governs the universe, but I get no answers._

He hesitated, then decided it was best not to mark that entry for Glory. To think that his niece had come so close to never being created...

_I'm so full of emotion I can hardly type. The crew of the Nemesis, once given up as lost, have contacted Cybertron at last._

_My brother is alive!_

_I want nothing more than to demand a shuttle to take me to this Earth world where he's now stationed, or to beg Shockwave to let me take the space bridge. After so many vorns of thinking Thundercracker dead, I just want to see his face again. But I had to content myself with a conversation on the communications link, a precious breem of time Megatron granted him to contact his family back on Cybertron. Primus, he's just like I remembered him. Why must he be his old untalkative self when I want nothing more than to speak to him again?_

_That reminds me - in my excitement at seeing him again, I completely forgot to tell him he's going to be an uncle! Perhaps there'll be an opportunity for that later, if Megatron doesn't work him to pieces collecting energy. Apparently Earth is rich in the resources we need to win this war. I can only hope that's the case, and that our family can be together again and live out the rest of our functioning time in peace._

He remembered that day very well - the day Megatron had given any Decepticons who had a family unit back on Cybertron a chance to contact them. Only he and Skywarp had taken advantage of that chance, seeing as few of Megatron's crew had family back home, and while Skywarp had chosen to contact his creators, Thundercracker had used the opportunity to see his sister again. Yes, he'd been rather quiet during the conversation, but only because there wasn't anything exciting to relate about four million years' worth of stasis. Plus he'd just wanted to hear his sister speak again, hear her relate her escapades among the scientist crews back in Polyhex. He hadn't been disappointed in the least.

And at least he had something of an explanation for why she hadn't mentioned Glory during that conversation. But they had spoken a few times since then... why had she said nothing? Maybe there was an answer in later entries...

_Every time Megatron broadcasts a message to Cybertron, he sends the call out for more soldiers, more recruits. He continues to push for family units to accelerate their sparklings' educations, to prepare them for adult upgrades that they might serve the Decepticon cause more readily. He says it's our duty to prepare our children for battle, that to ensure victory every mech, femme, and sparkling must be prepared and ever ready._

_I can't help but be scared by this. It was never my intention to bring a child into this world with the sole intention of making a soldier out of her. I want my daughter to mature at a normal pace, to live a normal childhood, to enjoy some portion of her life as an innocent sparkling without the terrible burden of war on her shoulders. And more than anything, I want her to live to see peace restored to Cybertron. And if she is made a soldier as soon as possible... then I fear she will never see the end of the war._

_A date has been set for us to take our child's sparkling shell to Vector Sigma. I'm excited and yet strangely terrified. I feel as if I'm about to dive off a cliff with no thought of what is beneath me._

An involuntary shiver, one that had nothing to do with the chill of the rain, passed through his frame. If Megatron had read this... But perhaps he had only scanned the journal for potential information on unfinished or secret projects, and not read it word for word. He could only hope...

_Today we took Glory to Vector Sigma and received her spark. It's an unusual name, I know, but I can imagine no other for her. For this child is our glory, the finest thing Piston and I have ever created. She's absolutely beautiful._

_That moment when her optics lit up for the first time will forever be burned into my memory banks. At that moment when she looked at me so trustingly, she ceased to be a mere shell and became a part of me. A more logical mech would say it's only natural - she shares my programming, after all - but this is more than just programming. This goes straight down to my spark. This... I can't describe it. A parent knows it's beyond description, and unless one has experienced it for themselves, they'll never know._

_She's recharging on my shoulder as I write this. The medic who examined her soon after her activation says most sparklings rest a lot during those first few days, as they build up the energy to test their bodies and see what they're capable of. I suppose I should let Piston take a turn holding her - he's looking put out right now, the poor dear..._

Thundercracker smiled as he marked this passage for Glory. He might never know for himself how Windblade had felt, might never have a chance to have a creation of his own, but he felt he had some small inkling of how his sister must have felt.

_Today Piston came staggering into the labs, shouting that there had been another blackout and he needed help finding the backup generator. There was no blackout, however - I had painted his visor over while he'd been napping at his desk. Glory laughed so hard her morning energon came out of her vents, and that sight made me laugh until my chassis hurt. And luckily, Piston took it in stride. Oh dear, we're such a crazy family unit, aren't we?_

"No wonder Glory fits in so well here," Thundercracker murmured with a smile. "She's used to daily lunacy." He kept reading.

_This is the most painful decision I've ever made, and my spark aches from it. We know it's necessary to protect Glory, but that doesn't make it any easier._

_We have decided not to tell Thundercracker about Glory. It hurts that I can't trust my own co-creation with this information... sorry, that was a bad choice of words. I know I can trust him - Primus knows he's kept enough secrets for me over the vorns. (As far as I know, he has still kept silent about the petrorabbits being released in the Astronomy Labs back at the Academy, for which I'm eternally grateful.) But I fear that, with my brother so close to Megatron, it will only be a matter of time before some word of Glory reaches Megatron's audials, even by accident. I won't have my child forced to become a soldier... and I won't have my brother forced to choose between his family and his commander. It wouldn't be fair to him._

_Primus forgive me this... and Thundercracker too, if by some chance he ever reads this. I never meant to hurt anyone. My only wish is to protect Glory._

So it had been intentional. Windblade had deliberately hidden Glory's existence from him. And yet... he couldn't be angry. Her fears were perfectly valid - no matter how hard he tried, he wouldn't have been able to keep Glory a secret for long. Someone would have discovered her eventually, and that information would have made it directly to Megatron. Though now that Megatron knew perfectly well about Glory... he didn't want to think about that too hard.

_The Autobot attacks draw closer every day. Just four days ago the recreation center where we used to take Glory was destroyed by a stray missile. The labs remain in a constant state of alert, and guns are kept ever ready in the event of an attack. Piston has insisted that I take Glory and leave Polyhex, but I refuse to leave without him - we're a family, and I won't see us separated._

_Glory wants to sit at the window and watch for Seekers flying overhead, but I won't let her. What she finds fascinating and exciting, I find frightening. The Autobots grow more daring and desperate with every attack, and I fear it's only a matter of_

The entry cut off there. And there were no further entries. Thundercracker suspected he knew why, and a check of the date of this entry confirmed it. This had been written just as the Autobots had struck the labs.

He turned the datapad off and slid it back into subspace, but he made no move to join his comrades just yet. Instead he leaned forward and rested his folded arms on his knees, his CPU heavy with what he had just read.

* * *

"Glory, pay attention!"

Glory looked up from scratching at her shinguard. Onslaught was looming over her with his arms folded, his visor aglow with what she'd come to recognize as a stern glower.

"But I'm bored," she whined.

"You're here for your weekly lesson, not to be entertained," Onslaught informed her crisply. "Now pay attention."

Glory looked around the room where the Combaticons had taken her. Brawl was dozing in a corner, Vortex was fiddling around with what looked like a shock prod, and Blast Off was engrossed in some sort of handheld game. She was tempted to point out that nobody else was paying attention either, but before she could say anything Onslaught spoke again.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you!" he barked. "How do you expect to learn anything if you're not paying attention?"

"But I am!" she retorted.

Onslaught visor dimmed slightly, as if he were narrowing his optics. "Then what did we just go over today?"

"What to do if you're a prisoner of war," she replied.

"And what DO you do if you find yourself in the hands of the enemy?" inquired Onslaught, tapping one foot impatiently.

She recited the lesson in a dull tone - she'd heard the lecture so many times, both from Onslaught and from Uncle T, that she could repeat it in her recharge cycle. "Don't talk to them. Don't answer any questions. Don't take anything they give you, even energon. Try not to let them touch you. And always keep an optic on your surroundings, because you might see something that can help you escape."

Onslaught gave a grudging nod. "And in your case?"

"I wait until Uncle T or Megatron or Wildfire rescues me. I don't go with anybody else, not even Starscream or the Stunticons. Can I go now?"

Onslaught continued to glower. "You're quick, no denying that. But it's one thing to memorize a lesson and another thing to truly absorb it."

"What's that mean?"

"It means you're dismissed. Go see Swindle for your next set of lessons. Brawl, wake up!"

Glory put a hand on Wildfire's shoulder and walked out of the room. Behind her, she could hear the surprised snorts of Brawl being startled out of recharge, as well as Blast Off's grumbling about "Since when did Swindle have anything useful to teach a sparkling anyhow? Besides, I thought he was in a business meeting..."

Once she had left the sparring room where Onslaught normally held his lessons with Glory, she hurried toward Swindle's quarters, Wildfire trotting along behind her. Lessons with Swindle were always fun - she didn't understand a lot of what he was talking about, but he spoke about it so passionately, with such obvious love for the subject, that she couldn't help but be fascinated by his words. And if she behaved herself during the lesson, she got a present. He wasn't as much fun to play with as the cassettes or the Stunticons, but that was okay by her.

"Hi, Swindle!" she said cheerily as she dashed into his quarters. "Oops."

Swindle had been talking to someone, but he shut his mouth and glanced up at Glory in surprise when she burst in. He was kneeling on the floor before a group of small, funny-looking, strangely soft creatures, ones Glory had only ever seen on a vidscreen before. Said creatures shouted something in a language she didn't understand and backed away, some raising weapons, but a few quick soothing words on Swindle's part calmed them down enough to keep them from shooting.

"Hey there, kid!" Swindle greeted. "Uh... can you come back later? This isn't a good time."

"Are those humans?" she asked, staring at them in fascination. "I thought they were bigger, but they're as small as Rumble!"

"Humans, organics, fleshlings, squishies, meatbags, whatever you wanna call 'em, there they are," Swindle replied. "But Swindle needs to talk to them for a little longer, okay? So why don't you play outside until we're done making a deal and Astrotrain takes them back home? I promise we won't be too long."

Glory sighed. "Okay." She had hoped that Swindle would let her stay and watch the humans. It could have been part of her lesson...

"Here, Glory, I got something for you." He carefully stood and picked his way over to his desk, careful not to step on anyone. Pulling a box out of one drawer, he handed it to the young femme. "Enjoy, kid."

She took a peek inside. "Ooh, goodies! Thank you, Swindle!"

"No problem, kid," he said with a grin. "Now out with you, shoo. We'll talk more later."

She walked out of the room and back down the hall, clutching her box of energon goodies. No classes with Swindle for awhile... which meant she could do whatever she wanted until he was done. Uncle T and the rest of the Seekers weren't back yet, but maybe the cassettes were up for something fun...

No such luck. When she poked her head into Soundwave's room, the Communications Officer was offline in his chair, silently napping - he'd just gotten back from his last mission and was probably exhausted. Ravage was curled up in his lap, rumbling softly in his recharge, and Ratbat hung upside-down from the arm of the chair. There was no sign of Rumble, Frenzy, Buzzsaw, or Laserbeak - they were probably either resting in Soundwave's chest compartment or off on a mission somewhere. She decided not to disturb them for now and crept silently away.

Her next stop was the Stunticons' quarters - they could always be counted on for something fun, whether it was a race through the halls or watching them fight with Wildfire. She had to be careful around Motormaster, since he could get violent when he got angry, but it was usually worth the risk.

Motormaster's room was unusually quiet when she poked her head inside. All five Stunticons were present, but instead of sparring or wrestling, they were gathered on a bench in front of a vidscreen, watching a movie. She walked up and climbed onto the bench between Breakdown and Dead End, wriggling herself into the gap between them. Breakdown jumped slightly and gave her a startled glance, but once he saw it was just her he relaxed and turned back to the screen.

"Whatcha watching?" she asked.

" _Maximum Overdrive,_ " replied Dragstrip, not looking away from the screen.

"What's that?"

"Human movie," Dragstrip replied. "Earth's machines come to life and go crazy."

"Oh." She wriggled a bit more to get comfortable and settled down to watch. A movie about machines couldn't be that bad, could it?

"Hey, we should totally glue a big green goblin head to Motormaster's front bumper," Wildrider cackled. "That would be fun."

"Do it and die painfully," growled Motormaster.

"I suppose you could always attempt to attach it to Optimus Primes' bumper?" suggested Dead End dryly. "If you survive long enough to try it. I suppose it would be a rather bold way to go, if utterly pointless..."

"Shut up, some of us are tryin' to watch here," complained Dragstrip.

Glory frowned and tilted her head as she watched the screen. "Are those Cybertronians?"

"No, child, they are not," Dead End replied. "Any Cybertronian with any sense of self-respect would know it is utterly ridiculous to have any part in a human feature film. Though I hear that hasn't stopped that wretched Wheeljack from trying to wrangle a cameo in the next _Fast and the Furious_ movie. Honestly, what would be the point?"

"How are they moving around if they're not Cybertronians, though?"

"Clever moviemaking, I suppose," Dead End answered.

"And what's all that stuff on that guy?" she asked, pointing to a tow truck that had just appeared on the screen.

"Something gross and organic," Breakdown said with a shudder. "I don't even want to think about how much that can mess with a mech's systems..."

"And why are they chasing the humans? Did the humans do something bad or..."

Motormaster turned toward Glory and leaned toward her in an effort to loom threateningly. Breakdown, who was seated between his team captain and the sparkling, cowered as if expecting to be beat. Wildfire growled low in his throat, but Motormaster ignored him.

"Kid," Motormaster snarled, "shut up. Watch the movie quietly or get out."

She nodded quickly and slid down from the bench, hurrying out of the room. She wasn't stupid - Motormaster was funny when he was angry, but she didn't want to be anywhere near him when he lost his temper.

So no playing with the Stunticons today either. She scuffed her feet as she walked toward Uncle T's room, pondering what else she could do for fun today. As she walked she munched on a few of the energon goodies Swindle had given her. Wildfire bumped her shoulder with his nose, and with a smile she offered him a handful.

She scooted over in the hallway to let Reflector pass. She wasn't too fond of them - the way they all talked and walked alike and even seemed to think alike was kind of creepy. But at least they were content to ignore her, and since they didn't react in entertaining ways to pranking attempts she was content to ignore them in return.

Once in Uncle T's room she looked around at her toys, then decided she didn't really feel like playing with any of them. Uncle T's computer was on, though, and after a moment's thought she climbed up into his chair and began poking at the keyboard. Maybe she could start her own World of Warcraft account? She'd seen her uncle play enough times that she was sure she could do a good job...

"Aww," she whined. World of Warcraft needed a password. And Uncle T had never given it to her. With a huff she flopped back in his chair. There wasn't anything fun to do here. All her playmates were too busy for her, and there was nothing new or fun to do...

Then an idea occurred to her, sparked by something Swindle had said. He'd told her to go "play outside," hadn't he? He could have meant for her to play outside his room, but "outside" could also mean outside the base. She hadn't been outside very often without an adult - only once in awhile to try and catch a new pet, before she'd gotten Wildfire. But there wasn't any rule keeping her from going outside on her own, was there?

"C'mon, Wildfire!" she told the horse-mech. "We're going on an adventure!" And she jumped from the chair to his back, settled herself, and slapped his shoulder. "Giddy-up!"

Wildfire nickered softly. "As Glory wishes," he croaked, and set off at a trot.

All the adults in the base were busy with their own projects, and nobody stopped her or her bodyguard as they made their way to the main exit and slipped outside.


	13. Found

Glory giggled as she propelled herself forward through the water, scattering a school of fish. On an impulse she reached out and tried to grab one, but it flicked away, bright silver scales flashing. She scowled briefly, but her annoyance was quickly forgotten as a larger shape caught her attention... a shark! With a grin she kicked out after it, quickly overtaking the giant fish and grabbing onto its dorsal fin. The beast jerked in surprise and rolled in an effort to bite her, but she twisted out of its reach and hung on. It finally wriggled free of her grasp and swam away, looking oddly dazed and most likely deciding that large metal creatures were to be avoided from here on out.

Once the shark was out of sight, she turned and kicked off to explore some more. Water was still a new and thrilling experience for her - until coming to Earth she'd only ever seen the stuff in jars or test tubes in Daddy's workshop. Now to be on a planet covered in the stuff and to constantly live surrounded by it... it was strange in a way, but still exciting. Uncle T had taught her to swim soon after her arrival - a necessity seeing as the Decepticon base lay on the ocean floor - but she wasn't allowed outside very often, so coming out for a swim or to explore was a special treat.

"I'm flying!" she giggled, extending her arms like wings and kicking forward. "Look Wildfire, I'm flying!"

"Glory wait up," groaned Wildfire, and she turned to see the horse-mech flailing to keep up. His equine legs were well-suited for running across land, but in the water his hooves were almost useless for swimming. In desperation he switched to robot mode and tried using his hands to paddle forward, but seeing as his lower legs remained horse-like even in this form it was still slow going.

"C'mon, Wildfire, you slowpoke!" she teased. "Let's go catch a dolphin!" And she kicked forward, leaving poor Wildfire behind. With a long-suffering snort he floundered after her.

The dolphins weren't hard to find - a pod of them lived around the Decepticon base, and they occasionally swam by the windows of the Nemesis to investigate these strange visitors to their watery home. Most of the Decepticons ignored them, though once in awhile Starscream would bang on the windows to scare off an especially inquisitive specimen, grumbling something about the "wretched flesh aquatics" being smarter than they looked and possibly plotting against them. Megatron found the idea absolutely hilarious, but otherwise paid the creatures no mind. Glory, meanwhile, had wanted an up-close look at them, but hadn't had the chance until now.

Four dolphins were darting and dancing through a stand of seaweed just ahead, their sleek silvery-gray bodies speckled with darker gray splotches as if they'd been in a painting accident. Glory singled out the one she figured had the prettiest markings and propelled herself after it, hands outstretched. The dolphin was too quick - it was gone long before she reached it. With a frustrated squeak she turned to find it again.

The dolphins, after the initial shock, seemed to decide that this new arrival wasn't a threat, but a possible plaything. The largest dolphin approached slowly, rolling to one side as if asking for a belly rub. Glory reached out to touch it, but it rolled out of reach. At the same time a second dolphin nudged Glory from behind and dashed away with a chattering laugh.

"Hey!" she giggled, turning to give chase.

Wildfire showed up at that moment, optics dim with exhaustion... but upon spotting the dolphins his optics flared angrily, and with a whinnying scream he drew his scimitar and charged. With frightened squeals the dolphins scattered and fled, quickly leaving Glory and Wildfire far behind.

"Bad Wildfire!" Glory scolded, furious at losing her playmates. "Bad horsey! They were just playing!"

"I protect Glory," Wildfire insisted, unrepentant. "Organics threat to Glory. Shockwave's orders."

"They're not bad!" Glory insisted. "They're fun!"

Wildfire opened his mouth as if about to protest further, then shut it again and curled his lip in a deadly snarl instead, his optics focused on something behind her. She whirled, wondering if the dolphins had returned...

No dolphins - only a tangled, writhing organic mass that most definitely was NOT seaweed or kelp. With a yelp Glory scrambled to hide behind Wildfire as he braced himself for combat, sword drawn and a threatening snarl fixed on his faceplate.

The giant squid drifted closer, unperturbed by the threat, and unfurled its sucker-covered tentacles toward the sparkling and bodyguard. Glory shrank back from their touch, but Wildfire's reaction was far more explosive - with a shriek he laid into the beast, hacking and slashing. One serpentine arm drifted away and two more suffered deep gashes, but the squid seemed to pay its injuries no heed, instead wrapping several of its remaining arms around Glory and pulling her into its grip. She screamed and kicked at the beast, but to no avail.

Wildfire gave his whinnying battle scream again and slashed at the squid. Two more arms came free, and a deep wound opened up in the mantle, but the creature stupidly hung on.

A shadow passed overhead, and Glory glanced up to see an enormous shark, bigger than any she'd seen before, gliding in to investigate. Then another, and another... dozens of them, drawn by the smell of the squid's blood and homing in like Seekers on an Autobot convoy.

The squid's beak closed around her leg, and panic truly set in. Screaming, she kicked and flailed, arm-spikes out and slashing at both the squid and the gathering sharks. It did no good - the sharks, worked into a feeding frenzy, were biting and tearing at anything within reach of their jaws... be it squid, fellow shark, or one of the Decepticons who had been unfortunate to be caught in the fray. Wildfire screamed in frustrated rage as he hacked wildly at the attacking sharks, but his efforts only whipped them into a further frenzy.

A huge fleshy snout rammed into Glory from behind, jolting her vents open. A frantic alarm blared in her systems as water hit and short-circuited vital circuits... then all went black.

* * *

Despite it being late March, far too early for proper beach weather, a fair-sized crowd of human onlookers had gathered on the sand, jackets buttoned and zipped up tight against the brisk wind. One might assume that they were gathered to watch for whales or sea lions or some other marine wildlife... but one would quickly be proven wrong as the object of their attentions surfaced again, drawing an unexpected round of exclamations and applause. Cameras flickered and clicked as he gave a bashful wave, then cleared a few strands of seaweed from his rotors and struck out for the Coast Guard boat anchored close by.

"Any luck?" asked the officer on deck, voice raised to carry over the wind.

"Found some wreckage about five klicks to the northwest," Seaspray replied. "Could be our missing fishing boat."

The officer nodded. "Sounds about right. Let us know if you come across it. Maybe we can determine just what sunk it. I'd hate to think Decepticons were attacking fishermen, but we can't rule that out as a possibility."

"Did you find survivors?" Seaspray asked.

"Yes. All hands survived - thankfully they were all wearing life vests."

Seaspray nodded. "I'll drop a beacon when I come across the boat so you can trace it."

"We appreciate this, Mr. Seaspray."

"Happy to help." And Seaspray ducked back beneath the choppy waters to continue his search for the sunken boat. With Decepticon activity at a complete standstill at the moment, some of the Autobots were taking the time to aid in human projects, such as community service or search-and-rescue operations. Seaspray had volunteered to help search for a fishing boat that had gone down off the Oregon coast - the Coast Guard was concerned that the boat might have strayed into known Decepticon waters and been attacked, but privately Seaspray thought that a simple fishing boat was beneath the Decepticons' concerns...

/Optimus Prime to Seaspray, come in Seaspray./

/Reporting, sir./

/We've just received a report of Decepticon activity at Mount Rainier. I'm leading a team of Autobots to investigate. Ironhide will be commanding officer at the Ark in my absence, so if you require any assistance, radio him./

/Copy, sir./

/Very good. Prime out./

/Seaspray out./ He cut the connection and kicked deeper, back to the wreckage he had spotted earlier.

Sure enough, their missing fishing boat lay on the ocean floor not far from the first tangle of wreckage he'd spotted, listing to starboard and a large hole blown in its hull. Seaspray dove down to inspect it, carefully running his hands along the edge of the rupture, then gave a hiss of relief. From the way the metal around the edges of the hole was bent sharply outward, it was obvious that the explosion that had sunk the ship had come from inside, not outside. So they could chalk this up to either a severe mechanical failure or possible explosive contraband aboard the ship... and at any rate, this was now the human authorities' problem, not the Autobots.

Clipping a beacon to the bow of the sunken boat, he launched himself to the surface, ready to make his report and prepare to leave...

/Coast Guard to Seaspray, come in!/

/Seaspray here. Just found your boat, and left a sonar beacon so you can find it again. Looks like an internal explosion, so nothing Decepticon here./

/Good to know, but we've got other problems. Just responded to a distress call from another fishing boat - they've hauled in something that you should probably take a look at./

Well, THAT was enough to pique the minibot's curiosity. He surfaced, transformed to his hovercraft mode, and jetted across the ocean's surface to reach the proper coordinates.

A second Coast Guard boat was anchored alongside the fishing craft, and several humans were gathered around something on the deck, talking animatedly and occasionally bending down as if to touch or prod whatever they'd found. Seaspray pulled up alongside the fishing boat, transformed, grabbed the deck railing, and hauled himself aboard, the humans on board shouting and staggering as the entire craft listed to the side with the minibot's sudden weight.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly, carefully padding closer. "What've you got?"

"Was caught in the nets," explained the boat's captain, a weathered-looking old man in a faded orange life vest and flannel jacket who didn't so much as look twice at Seaspray. "Took four of us to haul it on board. Looks like one of your kind."

"Our kind?" Seaspray stepped closer, the fishermen and Coast Guard parting to give him a look.

His systems jolted audibly at the sight. In the center of a tangled mass of netting, seaweed, and what looked to be huge tentacles was a sparkling. Her left leg had been cut open clear to the struts, severed wiring and tubing poking from the wound, and her body was marred with deep, jagged, crescent-shaped dents - shark bites, he realized. Netting was snagged in several of her joints and had twisted her right hip completely out of socket, most likely from being pulled aboard the boat. Her optics were the dull-gray of an offline mech, but her face plates were frozen in a look of utter panic.

/Ironhide, come in!/

/Yeah, Seaspray?/ Ironhide's voice was gruffer than usual - no doubt he wasn't pleased with having to stay behind while Prime and the others investigated whatever was happening at Mount Rainier.

/Remember that 'Con sparkling from the YouTube video?/

/What about her?/ The gruffness immediately became keen interest.

/Human Coast Guard found her in a fishing net off the Newport coast./

/Yer kiddin' me!/

/Not today, 'Hide. She's short-circuited from the look of it and pretty badly hurt.../

/Be there in a jiffy/ Ironhide interrupted. /Gimmie a moment to nab Ratchet first./

/Sure thing. Seaspray out./

"One of your troops?" asked the Coast Guard officer, bringing Seaspray back to reality.

Seaspray shook his head. "This is a sparkling - a Cybertronian child." He bent down and began inspecting her wounds, first the gash to the leg, then a few of the bite-marks that had been strong enough to puncture the metal. "Looks like her self-repair has taken care of any leakage, but she's still in bad shape..."

"You guys have kids?" someone muttered, but quieted down before Seaspray could identify him.

"Any idea what a... sparkling is doing this far from home?" asked the officer, stumbling a bit over the unfamiliar term.

Seaspray shook his head. "Not a clue." He pointed to the injured leg. "Looks as if she tangled with a squid - could have been the beak that made that slash. She must have wounded it and attracted sharks too." Here he pointed out the various dents created by the beasts' jaws. "And her vents are open - probably flooded her systems and short circuited."

"Sort of like drowning?" the fishing captain asked.

"Sort of, except a short-circuited mech can be reactivated without significant damage more easily than a drowned human," Seaspray replied, finally straightening. "We have an officer on his way. Meanwhile, let's raise anchor and get to a dock as fast as possible."

Though it couldn't have been longer than half an hour or so, it seemed to take forever to reach the nearest dock, where Ironhide and Ratchet were already standing in wait for them. As soon as the boat was within reach, Ironhide hurried forward and, without a word of greeting or warning, scooped the sparkling off the deck and carried her off, still trailing shreds of fishing net and clumps of seaweed. Ratchet hollered at the red warrior to slow down and at least let him have a look at her damages, but Ironhide continued on with a determined stride, face grim.

"Will she be all right?" asked the Coast Guard officer. "I... I have a little girl myself, so I'm especially concerned..." he went on, as if he felt a need to explain himself.

"She'll be fine," Seaspray assured him. "Ratchet'll make her good as new." _The real question is - what the frag will Prime say when he finds out about this?_

* * *

"I TOLD you it was doomed to fail, Megatron!" Starscream hissed, lengthening his stride to catch up with the commander as he stormed through the halls of the Nemesis. "But you were SO confident that THIS time your fool contraption would work, and that THIS time the extinction of the Autobots was assured..."

"It worked perfectly!" Hook thundered, offended, as he hurried behind. "If that Primus-cursed storm had let up long enough for us to install it properly..."

"It exploded the moment that fool Bluestreak shot it!" Starscream retorted. "If THAT is working perfectly, I'd hate to see if it failed..."

"I would like to see YOU do any better, Starscream!" Hook shot back angrily.

"Enough out of both of you!" Megatron roared. "Hook, I expect that energy collector to be fully repaired within the week! We will have to select a different volcano for the next attempt, as the Autobots will be watching that one, but we shall see success in this venture..."

"You keep saying that..." huffed Starscream.

Thundercracker broke away from the main group at that point, having heard this same conversation or something close to it too many times to count by now. As entertaining as it sometimes was to see Starscream get his comeuppance from Megatron, he had other things on his CPU right now. Like a trip to the washracks to get the dirt and crud out of his joints, a full cube of energon, and a moment of calm to catch up on things with Glory... and that reminded him, he had promised her a flight if she had behaved herself.

"On my way to the break room," Skywarp announced suddenly. "Want me to grab you a cube while I'm there?"

"Sure, thanks," Thundercracker replied. "Drop it off at my quarters, okay?"

"Can do. Say hi to Glory for me." The black Seeker turned down the next hallway, leaving Thundercracker to make his way back to his quarters alone.

"Glory?" he called out as he opened the door and walked in. "We're back. You didn't give Swindle too hard a time, did you..."

His vocalizer trailed off. Glory wasn't in here. Her toys were still scattered on the floor and her recharge berth, but neither she nor Wildfire were present. He fought back the sudden twinge of panic in his fuel tanks and shut the door again. Perhaps she was with Swindle or the Stunticons, or hiding with the cassettes. He'd have a look around before he began to worry...

The Stunticons were scattered throughout Motormaster's quarters when Thundercracker took a cautious look inside - evidently even something as supposedly calm as a movie night got entirely out of hand with them. The viewscreen was still showing the menu screen for iMaximum Overdrive,/i but a starburst of cracks in one corner of said screen marked where something heavy had been thrown at it. Pieces of a bench and a dismantled recharge berth were strewn about, and streaks of paint on the walls showed where mechs had been tossed about in the fight. No sign of Glory, he was relieved to note.

"You guys seen Glory lately?" he asked Breakdown, carefully nudging the white Lamborghini with his foot.

"Huh?" Breakdown groaned, onlining one optic to glare blearily up at him. "Uh... she came in once at the beginning of the movie... left right before Dragstrip started arguing with Motormaster... don't remember much after that..."

"Thanks." Thundercracker shut the door and hurried down the hallway. He would check with Swindle next - the Combaticon had volunteered to watch her in his absence, and he was fond of trying to educate Glory in the ways of the "business world..."

Speaking of Swindle, the jeep nearly ran Thundercracker over as he bolted around a corner, violet optics aglow with panic. Upon realizing who he'd almost collided with, his optics flared even brighter before he pasted on a weak smile.

"Hey there, you're back early..." Swindle began.

"Where's Glory?" demanded Thundercracker.

"Well..." Swindle paused a beat, no doubt scrambling for a cover story. "I was just about to go fetch her for her lesson... my meeting ran longer than I planned and..."

"You lost her," Thundercracker said accusingly.

"I didn't exactly lose her," Swindle replied quickly. "She's somewhere in the base, I'm sure."

"Fraggit, Swindle!" Thundercracker snarled. "I put you in charge of her!"

"What did you expect me to do, put a leash on her?" Swindle retorted. "Not like you do a good job of keeping her in one place..."

"Keep the yelling down, guys!" Skywarp advised, arriving on the scene carrying an energon cube. "Megatron's already in a bad mood, ya wanna set him off?"

"Swindle lost Glory," Thundercracker said shortly by way of explanation.

"I didn't lose her, she wandered off!" Swindle defended.

"Same thing," Skywarp replied. "She with the Stunts?"

"I checked, she's not there," Thundercracker answered. "What about Rumble and Frenzy?"

"They're not back from their spy mission in Kuwait yet," Swindle replied.

"So when DID you see her last, Swindle?" asked Skywarp.

"She barged in while I was still in the middle of my weapons deal three hours ago," explained Swindle. "She asked about the humans a little, then I told her to go play outside until I was done..." He abruptly stopped talking, and a look of horror came over his face.

"What, what's wrong?" Skywarp demanded.

Thundercracker came to the same realization that instant. "You meant 'outside' as in 'outside your room,' but she probably took it as 'outside the base.'"

Cybertronians didn't go pale when something shocked them, but color did seem to leech from Swindle's optics. "We gotta tell Megatron. Organize search parties. She couldn't have gone too far, she's only a kid..."

Thundercracker grabbed Swindle's arm in a vise-like grip that shut the Combaticon up in a hurry. "If anything's happened to her," he snarled, leaning over to loom threateningly, "I'll take it out of your scrap. You hear me?"

Swindle squeaked and nodded.

With a shove he released Swindle, who staggered back a few steps before collecting himself.

/Thundercracker to Megatron, Glory is missing. Swindle suspects she's outside the base somewhere./

/She's WHAT?/ roared Megatron. /Who in Primus' name let her out in the first place? Never mind, take Skywarp and Swindle and start your search. I'll organize the rest of the Decepticons./

/Yes sir./ Cutting the connection, he turned to the others. "You two, follow me. We'll start in the immediate area around the base and work our way outward."

"Roger!" Skywarp barked, and he and Swindle hurried in Thundercracker's footsteps as the blue Seeker charged for the exit.

 _Glory, you'd better be all right_ Thundercracker thought half-angrily, half-fearfully as he ran. _Because if anything happened to you... I'd never forgive Swindle. Or myself._

* * *

Her optics came online to a blurred mess of colors, the receptors activating with great reluctance and taking their own sweet time in properly focusing. She rebooted them a few times to clear her vision, and the ceiling above her finally came into focus... an orange ceiling criss-crossed with seams and a jutting spike of brownish stone piercing it in one place like a giant fang. Strange... she'd never been anywhere with an orange ceiling...

Once her sight was clear she rolled her head from side to side to take in her surroundings. She was lying on a tall berth in a room with walls the same orange color of the ceiling, with several more berths standing empty on either side of her. A few pieces of medical equipment lay on a counter close by, and a stack of crates were piled haphazardly in one corner as if they had been unloaded in a hurry and no one had had time to sort through them yet. A monitor beeped steadily to her right, connected to a port in her side with a thin cable. Aside from the monitor and the steady hum of in-standby equipment, the room was silent.

Curious by now, Glory sat up and looked around a little more. Where was she? How had she gotten here? Was this another Decepticon base under the ocean? If so, who was in charge of this one? She'd never seen a Decepticon building with orange walls, but maybe whoever was in charge here had decided purple was boring...

Voices drifted in from the next room, and she froze, cocking her head to listen closely.

"...some heavy energon loss along with the injuries and short-circuiting," said a voice she'd never heard before. "I've given her a transfusion to boost her energy levels and fixed up the worst of the dents along with her legs. Now we just wait for her to come online and hope for the best." The voice sighed. "It's been so long since I've worked on a sparkling..."

A laugh was the voice's answer. "Don'cha worry, Ratchet, sparklings are resilient. They bounce back pretty easy after takin' a fall." This voice was again unfamiliar, but warm and with a strange accent. "Th' question is - whadda we do with her once she onlines?"

"I've called Optimus," the first voice explained. "He's on his way back. Once he arrives, we'll decide."

Glory's air cycles stopped, and cold fear flared through her systems. Optimus... these must be...

"My vote is for keepin' her here," rumbled a third voice, sounding irritated at the discussion. "Shame on those Decepticreeps for leavin' her alone, lettin' her get all torn up. She deserves t' be someplace where someone'll look after her..."

"We've heard this argument before, Ironhide," the first voice huffed. "Four times now..."

A door on the other side of the room slid open, admitting three mechs still engaged in conversation. One was a boxy white mech with red hands and red crosses on his shoulders, a black chevron over his blue optics giving him a perpetually grouchy look. The second, black and white with a bright blue stripe down his chest, sported a blue visor in place of optics and a set of black horns that almost looked like the ears of an electro-kitty. The third mech, also somewhat boxy in shape, was red and gray, with a raised crest of sorts on his helm. For a few moments they continued their discussion, the red one adamant about whatever point he was defending, the white one sounding exasperated, and the black and white simply staying back and letting the other two hash it out.

Glory paid no attention to these details. The only detail she was focused on was the red sigil each of these mechs sported - the fearsome scowling emblem of the Autobots.

The black and white mech was the first to notice the subject of their conversation was online and alert, and the slight smile on his faceplate died immediately. "She's up, Ratchet."

Ratchet stopped talking mid-sentence and turned to face Glory. For a moment he frowned as if puzzled, then smiled and stepped closer, one hand raised in a placating gesture. "Up already, little one?" he asked, his tone friendly. "You gave us quite a scare there..."

The scream that had been clawing its way out of Glory's vocalizer finally forced itself free. Ratchet took a hasty step backward, almost as if the cry had been a physical blow that had knocked him back.

"Whoa, whoa, lil' lady, Ratch ain't gonna hurt you!" the black and white mech consoled. "He's just gonna make sure you got all fixed up right..."

She screamed again, rolling off the repair berth and hitting the floor running. The monitor cord pulled taut before jerking out of her side port, sending a flash of pain through her sensors but spurring her on. They were Autobots, she'd been caught by Autobots, she had to get away FAST before they did something horrible...

"Stop her!" Ratchet shouted. "Somebody catch her! Swoop, grab her!"

Glory screamed again and slid almost to a halt as another mech stepped into the repair bay - a huge, blue and gray mech even taller than Megatron and sporting immense wings and a towering crest like a dragon. The huge Autobot squawked in surprise at seeing her, then bent down with both hands extended in an attempt to scoop her up. She dashed between his legs and bolted out the open door behind him...

And nearly ran smack into a terrifyingly familiar pair of blue legs.

Optimus Prime drew to a halt, holding an arm out to stop the other Autobots behind him. He stared down at Glory, as if not quite believing what he was seeing. Glory took advantage of that moment of confusion to bolt down the hallway, away from Prime and the Autobots, hoping beyond hope that this hallway led to the exit and escape...

The floor beneath her feet shuddered, and she slid to a stop with a desperate whimper as a hulking form rounded the corner to block the path ahead. The monstrous Autobot peered down with a featureless black face and blocky blue visor, no doubt seeing her but seeming to ponder what to do about what he'd seen. For a moment Glory could only stand there and tremble. The path ahead was blocked, the path behind was blocked, there was no way out...

A hand grabbed her from behind. "Gotcha!"

* * *

Prime hadn't been willing to believe Ratchet's report at first. The last thing he had expected to find upon returning to the base was the Decepticon sparkling. Ratchet was not given to practical jokes like certain other mechs, but he had almost wished that the medic was playing a strange trick on him. Actually returning and seeing the femme with his own optics cleared away any doubts... but only served to raise a whole slew of new problems now.

Grimlock's sudden appearance had made the femme halt in her tracks, and before she could recover enough from her fear to dash off again Ironhide caught up with her and snatched her up in his arms. "I got 'er, Prime..."

The femme shrieked piercingly, then raised an arm and swiped the Nissan across the chest with an extended set of spikes. Ironhide yowled and dropped her, staggering back, and she took off running again. Grimlock came to his senses and made a clumsy swipe after her, but she dodged and kept going. The Dinobot snarled and gave chase, followed by several more Autobots.

"Ironhide, you have a lot of explaining to do," Prime said sternly.

Ironhide glared back, unrepentant. "Seaspray found 'er, Prime. An' she was hurt bad when he came across 'er. What was he s'posed to do, leave her t' rust?"

Prime waved Ironhide away impatiently and jogged down the hallway, after the fleeing femme and pursuing Autobots. When he came across them again, the Autobots were gathered around an open ventilation duct close to the floor, and Sunstreaker was kneeling with his arm plunged into the duct up to the shoulder, face set in concentration.

"Autobots, cease this at once," he ordered.

"But we got her cornered!" Sideswipe insisted. "This is the duct that was blocked off for repairs, remember? She's right within reach..."

"I think I got her," Sunstreaker announced. "At least I touched something that moved... YOW!" He jerked his arm out and cradled it against his chest, staring in horror at the deep furrows scratched into his paint. "She clawed me!"

"That would be her arm spikes," Ratchet replied, catching up to Prime at last. "My fault, I didn't think to disable them..."

"Enough of this," Prime ordered. "No more attempts to capture the sparkling."

"But she ruined my paint job!" Sunstreaker snapped, waving his "injured" arm in Prime's face.

"And that's worth terrifying her into hysterics?" demanded Prime, pointing at the open duct. The femme wasn't visible, but her frightened crying could be clearly heard.

Sunstreaker scowled but said nothing.

Trailbreaker knelt to peer into the duct. "I see her. Aw, the poor thing must be scared out of her processor..."

"But why would we scare her?" Bluestreak protested. "She's got no reason to be scared of us. We're Autobots!"

Prime gave Bluestreak an even look. "Yes, Bluestreak, we are Autobots. And that is precisely WHY she is frightened of us."

"But why?" Bluestreak insisted. "We're not out to hurt anyone, unless they're Decepti... oh." He went silent, staring wonderingly at Prime as if it had only just occurred to him.

Jazz's gaze moved to the duct, a sympathetic look crossing his faceplate, then back to Prime. "We can't just leave her there, Prime. Scared of us or not, she's gotta come out sometime."

"We will let her come out on her own terms, Jazz," Prime replied, having to pitch his voice slightly louder to be heard over the sparkling's crying. "I want a guard stationed by this ventilation duct at all times. Keep a ration of energon handy as well. She has probably been warned to not accept energon from us; however, she is a child and not a trained soldier, so I expect energy shortage to eventually get the best of her. Radio me if she comes out."

"And then what do we do with her, Prime?" demanded Ratchet. "There's no protocol for a situation like this - we can't just throw her in the brig like a common enemy soldier."

Here Prime hesitated. "We will cross that bridge when we come to it, Ratchet." He turned to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, the latter of whom was still nursing the scratches to his arm. "You two will take the first shift."

Sunstreaker glanced up sharply. "You've got to be kidding me. After what that little slagger did to my paint? I'm not going to play babysitter to a bratty Decepti-punk kid..." He broke off and whirled toward the duct, where the femme's crying had grown even louder. _"Stop crying or I'll give you something to cry about, you little slagger!"_

The duct went instantly quiet.

It took all of Prime's self-control to stop himself from facepalming or smacking Sunstreaker. "On second thought, I want Sideswipe and Trailbreaker taking the first shift. Sunstreaker, that's cleaning duty for the next week for backtalking an officer. Ironhide, Ratchet, Jazz, I want a full report on the situation, including what Seaspray has to say. Meet me in my office."

The Autobots slowly dispersed, Sideswipe and Trailbreaker taking up posts next to the duct and Sunstreaker slouching off with a grumble. Prime turned to go, but not without a final glance back at the sparkling's hiding place. This was a delicate situation any way one looked at it, and he only prayed he could handle it without it blowing up in his faceplate... and further traumatizing the child in the process. Of everyone involved, she would suffer the most despite deserving it the least.


	14. Humans

Ravage bolted from the airlock and into the Nemesis, dripping wet and tendrils of seaweed caught in his joints and dangling from his ears and missiles. Hissing in distaste, he gave himself a vigorous shake like a wet turbohound, sending droplets of salt spray and scraps of vegetable matter flying in every direction. No one bothered to snap at the cassette-panther for the action - everyone was just as wet and filthy, and whatever contribution Ravage had made to their state didn't make too much difference.

Thundercracker stepped through the airlock right after Ravage, the last to enter the base. "Any luck?"

Ravage growled and shook his head.

"Nothing in our quadrant," Blast Off added, looking up from scraping sand out of his ankle joints. "That's the difficulty of water searches - it's not like anything leaves a trail."

"Found a few chunks of organic gunk in our sector, but nothing cybernetic," Skywarp put in, and he opened his cockpit to dump out copious quantities of water, soggy sand, and a handful of flopping fish. "Ewww, nasty... I'm gonna have to scrub for a week..."

Thundercracker whirled to face Starscream and the coneheads, the other members of Skywarp's team. Thrust, Dirge, and Ramjet just shook their heads. Starscream scowled, but copied the maneuver.

"What about the Constructicons or the Stunticons?" asked Thundercracker, wincing at the hysterical edge to his voice and struggling to tone it down. "Or Megatron and the triple changers? Have they reported in yet?"

"The Constructicons returned over an hour ago," Starscream informed him crisply. "Someone needed to watch the base, after all. No sense leaving ourselves vulnerable to attack for the sake of a spark-brat..."

"The Stunticons are still out there," Skywarp assured him. "Said they found some underwater caves and figured she might be hiding in them. No word on Megatron's team."

Thundercracker gripped both sides of his helm, fighting to stay calm. Panic would do Glory no good now. He had to keep a cool CPU, had to focus... Glory was out there somewhere, and the only thing to do was to keep searching for her...

"TC, calm down," Skywarp assured him, patting his shoulder. "I'll bet she's just out there playing around, having the time of her life, and she'll come back inside when she gets bored. Hope she doesn't mind getting grounded for the next orn..."

"I don't know," Thundercracker replied, shaking his head. "I just have this terrible feeling... that something's happened to her..."

The airlock hissed open again, admitting Megatron, Astrotrain, and Blitzwing. Thundercracker opened his mouth to ask if they had found anything... and left it hanging open in shock when he spotted Wildfire lying limply in Astrotrain's arms. The mangled, offline mech was missing one arm, and his remaining limbs bore deep dents and slashes. His optics, dull gray and lifeless, stared blankly from a face contorted in profound rage. Strings of plant matter hung from his joints, and a mixture of water and other fluids dripped from his wounds. Skywarp made a sickening sound in his throat tubing as if he were about to lose the contents of his fuel tank.

"Oh Primus," groaned Swindle, averting his gaze.

"Where did you find..." began Thundercracker, unable to take his gaze off of the mauled horse-former.

"Next to the remains of a giant squid in the southeast quadrant," Megatron replied brusquely. "No sign of the femme."

Thundercracker's systems kicked into higher gear in response to the terror that gripped his spark. If Glory and Wildfire had come across something powerful enough to overwhelm the bodyguard, then there was no telling what kind of shape she was in. Had her body drifted away in a current, never to be seen again? Had some ocean behemouth made off with her? Was she hiding somewhere, injured and terrified, waiting for someone to rescue her? Possibilities built up in his CPU, each worse than the last...

He forced his air cycling to remain steady, a task that he only managed with difficulty. "I'll go back to those coordinates with Skywarp and..."

Megatron raised his hand, cutting the blue Seeker off. "Decepticons, return to your stations!"

"What?!" demanded Thundercracker. "But she's still out there! She could be hiding, she could be damaged badly..."

"Those are my orders, Thundercracker!" Megatron barked, glowering. "We cannot afford to waste precious time and energy on one Decepticon. All soldiers are to return to their duties. The Stunticons will continue their search until 2200 hours, after which a second team will relieve them of their task. If she is not found within a week, we end the search."

"But sir..." he persisted.

"Thundercracker," Megatron cut in, lowering his voice to a warning growl, "your niece she may be. But you are a Decepticon soldier, and the cause must come before all else. And if we are unable to locate her within a week... then we will simply be wasting our resources searching for a dead mechanism."

Thundercracker met Megatron's gaze, struggling to form an answer. The thought of giving up the search after any amount of time, of simply abandoning Glory to whatever fate had overtaken her, was enough to make his spark ache. "Sir... I'll search for her on my own time..."

Megatron's hand curled into a fist, the knuckle joints creaking ominously. "Do NOT defy me, Thundercracker. That is your only warning." And he stalked off. Astrotrain stared after him, a look of dull surprise on his face, then trudged off in the direction of repair bay, looking at the battered mech in his arms as if it were something foul.

It took a few moments for Skywarp to respond. "TC, we'll find her before the week's over. Don't worry so much."

Swindle opened and shut his mouth a few times before daring to speak. "I... I'm sorry... I should have kept a closer optic on her..."

Thundercracker didn't even have the energy to respond to either of them. He simply turned and walked away, his CPU heavy with worry and despair. If Glory wasn't found soon... if the Stunticons came across her deactivated body...

He paused at the door of his quarters, then shook his head and walked on. He couldn't go in there right now. The room was strewn with Glory's possessions - it would only be a painful reminder of what was going on.

 _If the week goes by with no sign of her, do I dare disobey Megatron?_ he thought. _Is it worth risking my place among his forces - or my life - to search for her against his command?_

* * *

The faint creak of wheels was the only sound that drifted through the corridor as Chip Chase made his way through the Ark. On a normal day he would have had a companion by his side - Spike, perhaps, or Carly or even Prowl if he was off-duty at the moment. But these were abnormal circumstances to say the very least, and for some reason the hallways of the Autobot base seemed even more oversized and lonely without company close by. The fact that Grapple had powered down the lights for the evening to conserve energy didn't exactly help matters.

Two days had passed since Seaspray had brought the injured sparkling into the base, and in all that time she still hadn't emerged from the vent where she had taken refuge. Optimus Prime had ordered this hallway closed to all but guards and authorized personnel until the issue of the sparkling was resolved somehow. It made navigating the base tricky, and more than one mech had complained about having to find alternate routes, but Prime reasoned that the fewer Autobots in the femme's vicinity, the better. He hoped that eventually the femme would calm down enough to leave her hiding place, and that perhaps with only one or two Autobots around she would gradually realize that they meant her no harm. Once they had progressed that far... what to do next was still being debated among the officers.

It had taken a great deal of haggling on Chip's part for him to be allowed in this area - Prowl was concerned that the young scientist's safety might be compromised. Sparkling or not, this was still a Decepticon, and who knew exactly what her guardians had taught her to think of humans? But Chip had been insistent, arguing that he had a theory on how to draw the femme out of hiding, and that if he found himself in any danger he would contact them for help immediately. In the end, they had relented once Chip reluctantly agreed to keep a guard present just in case.

As he steered himself around the corner Chip caught sight of this shift's guards, Bumblebee and Warpath. The yellow Volkswagon was seated cross-legged on one side of the air vent where the Decepticon femme was hiding, occasionally turning his head to peer inside. Warpath stood at attention on the other side, fidgiting slightly from time to time. Off to one side sat a small energon cube, giving off a slight glow in the dim light.

"Still no luck?" asked Chip.

Bumblebee turned and offered Chip a sheepish smile. "She almost came out once, but Warpath startled her back into hiding."

"BAM! Like it's my fault!" huffed Warpath. "She ZAM! surprised me!"

"Maybe if you toned your volume down a bit..." Bumblebee suggested.

"Guys, why don't you take a break?" suggested Chip. "I'll take over your shift."

Bumblebee stared at Chip as if he'd suddenly announced he was going to go fight Starscream single-handedly. "Um... no offense, Chip, but..."

Chip laughed. "I won't be able to catch her if she runs for it? Don't worry, even if she does bolt I don't think she'll get far. And I have protection."

"POW! I could use a break," Warpath huffed, turning to go. "BANG! Thanks, Chip!"

"No problem, Warpath," Chip replied, waving at the tank-former.

"Give us a call if you need anything," Bumblebee added, and he picked up the cube and handed it to Chip. "Keep that handy, she's going to need it. She hasn't refueled yet."

Chip watched the two minibots go, then steadied the cube in his lap - it was slightly larger than a microwave oven, but thankfully not heavy - and pushed himself forward to the air vent. It would have been on eye level with a standing human, but from his seated position he couldn't see inside. He could still hear her, however, scraping and shifting around as if trying to get comfortable, occasionally sniffing or whimpering. Poor thing, she was probably sick with fear and energon depletion by now. If only he could reach her and assure her that she was perfectly safe here...

Music burst briefly from the bag hanging off the back of his wheelchair, and he reached back and patted it just to assure Blaster he hadn't forgotten about him. If the sparkling tried to attack him, the tape deck would be right there to protect him, but for now he hoped it wouldn't come to that. It was his hope that Cybertronian children, like human children, were naturally curious, and that he could use that curiosity to gain her trust.

Time to test the theory and attempt to establish contact, he supposed. "Hello there!"

A gasp echoed from inside the shaft.

"Don't be afraid. My name's Chip, and I just want to talk."

No reply. Chip cleared his throat and tried talking again. "I have some energy for you. And I wouldn't mind seeing you. I've never seen a sparkling before."

Silence. Then a prolonged scrape of metal on metal as she dragged herself forward. Chip backed his wheelchair up slightly as a head emerged from the vent - purple-helmed, with a smooth silver face streaked with optical cleaning fluid, and enormous ruby optics that blazed with fear. She stared at him, some of the terror melting from her expression and replaced with confusion... and just a hint of interest. Good, good so far...

"I'm a human," he said by way of explanation. "Don't be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you." He carefully patted the cube. "I've got something for you."

She continued to stare, her gaze moving from him to the cube, then back to him. Her expression was torn between longing and fear - she wanted the energy, but she didn't want to take it from him.

"It's okay, it's for you," he assured her. "I won't mind at all if you take it."

For a moment it looked as if she would refuse the cube. Then her hand darted out from the opening, snatching the cube from his lap, and she scooted backward out of sight. Well, that was a start, he supposed...

"Anything goin' down yet?" asked Blaster softly.

"She accepted the energy," Chip replied quietly. "It's a good start."

"We don't need a good start, we need her out of there," complained Blaster, voice edgy with irritation.

"If you're bored, find some way to entertain yourself," suggested Chip. "Play a song or something."

"That's the best idea you've had all day, kid," Blaster replied cheerily, and a loud techno tune blared through the hall. The femme gave a frightened squeal.

"Something a little quieter!" Chip ordered over the music, pressing his hands to his ears. "You're scaring her!"

"You're no fun," Blaster retorted, and the raucous music cut to something too quiet for Chip to hear with his hands still over his ears. "This quiet enough for you?"

Chip lowered his hands. A mellow piano ballad now drifted through the hall, and he recognized it as one of Elton John's classics. "That's better," he assured the tape deck, and turned back to the air vent.

The sparkling hovered just at the opening of the vent, still staring at Chip. Energon smeared her mouth plates, but she seemed oblivious to the mess she'd made while refueling. All her attention was focused on Chip now, and her expression, while still fearful, was full of wonder.

Chip gave what he hoped came across as a friendly smile. "Hi again."

She opened her mouth once or twice, as if trying to reboot her vocalizer. "That's my song," she said, her voice high and quiet.

"Your song?" he repeated, briefly puzzled. Then he nodded in understanding. "Oh, 'Your Song.'"

She nodded. "Uh-huh. It's my song."

"Actually, that's just the title of the song. The man who wrote it named it 'Your Song.'"

She shook her head insistently. "It's my song. Uncle T sings it to me. It's mine." She spoke quietly, timidly, but there was a defiant edge to her voice.

"Dude, she's speaking to you," Blaster whispered, awed.

 _Let's just hope we can keep this up_ , Chip prayed, mentally crossing his fingers before speaking again. "My name's Chip. Chip Chase. What's yours?"

The sparkling hesitated, then spoke so quietly Chip had to strain to hear. "Glory."

"Glory," he repeated. "That's a pretty name."

Glory watched him quietly for a moment longer before speaking again. "I want Uncle T."

"Who's Uncle T?"

She shrank back. "I'm not supposed to talk to you."

"Did they tell you that you're not supposed to talk to Autobots?"

She nodded.

"Well," Chip began, feeling somewhat guilty for pointing out technicalities but knowing it was his best hope for drawing her out, "I'm not an Autobot, am I? I'm a human, and humans can't be Autobots. So you can talk to me."

"Oh." Glory thought about that a moment, then poked her head a little farther out and looked up and down the corridor. Once she was satisfied that they were alone, she turned her attention back to Chip. "I wanna go home."

"Where's home?"

"With Uncle T on the Nemesis," she replied, and fresh optic fluid dripped down one cheek. "I didn't mean to get in trouble, honest... I just wanted to play outside... and then the sharks came and..."

"Hey Glory, it's all right," Chip consoled. "You're safe here with me. I promise."

"W-w-what about the Autobots? If I come out, they'll get me!"

"I promise you that won't happen if you're with me," Chip assured her.

She scanned the hallway again, then slowly clambered out of the vent. Chip gave a low whistle once she had emerged and stood to her full height. Child or not, she was still Cybertronian, which meant she towered over him. She was easily nine feet tall, maybe ten, and despite lacking the bulk of a fighting mech he knew she could still easily overpower any human. He was going to have to be cautious now...

"Do you want to come with me?" he invited. "I know a place you can stay where there's no Autobots."

"Can't I go home?" she whined. "I'm scared of this place. I want Uncle T. I want 'Warp and Rumble and Frenzy and Wildfire..."

"We'll work on getting you home," Chip said soothingly. "But for now, let's find you someplace to rest and refuel a little more, okay?"

She didn't seem so sure about that, but she did nod in agreement, and when Chip wheeled on down the corridor he could hear her footsteps trailing behind. So far, so good... now to make sure their good luck wouldn't be jinxed.

"Optimus Prime," he whispered into the radio receiver clipped to his jacket, "I've got the femme. I'm taking her to the lounge on Level Four. Can you make sure we have a clear path there and that no Autobots are in the room once we get there?"

"We'll arrange it immediately," Prime replied. "Good work, Chip. Continue to keep us updated."

"Yes sir. I got a name out of her, by the way - Glory."

"We'll run that through Teletraan-1 and see if anything comes up," Prime informed him. "In the meantime, see if you can keep her calm and under control."

"Yes sir. If I may ask... has any decision been made regarding her yet?"

"We will inform you when one is made." In a low voice that indicated he was probably talking to himself, he added "Whatever it is, I just hope it's the right decision. For everyone."

* * *

As Glory followed the strange wheeled human through the halls, she folded her arms across her chest and hugged herself tightly, her optics flicking toward every doorway and side hall. She half-expected an Autobot to come bursting out of hiding and grab her, or for laser blasts to come shrieking toward her. All the tales Kickback and Bombshell had told her, all the stories she'd eavesdropped on in the break room, kept rearing up in her processor and making her shake with fear. And the half-forgotten memories of the labs kept threatening to break free as well...

But the human was nice, at least. And while Thundercracker and Megatron and Onslaught had lectured her time and again on the dangers of the Autobots, they had never said anything about humans being a threat. When the creatures were brought up by any soldier, it was either with haughty disdain or simple humor. Many mechs felt free to sample their culture - video games, movies, books, and music - and Swindle dealt with them on a regular basis in his business ventures. Glory had never regarded the humans as anything other than a curiosity, and certainly never as something frightening and dangerous.

So despite the fear burning away at her systems, she couldn't help but be a little intrigued by this creature that called himself Chip... and her curiosity served to dispell that fear just a little.

Chip steered himself toward an open doorway and motioned for her to follow. "Don't worry, there's only humans in here. And we don't bite."

She hesitated, then followed him inside. This room looked like the break room at the Decepticon base, only a little smaller, and had the same orange walls and ceiling as the medical bay and hallways. A large, well-worn bench stood before a blank vidscreen, and a few chairs were stacked in one corner. In another corner was a much smaller table, and sitting at it were three more humans deep in some kind of discussion - two mechs and a femme, from the look of it. Though she wasn't sure if "mechs" and "femmes" were the right words, but then, Swindle hadn't had time to teach her about humans...

The younger "mech" glanced up, spotting her, and a stunned expression crossed his face.

"It's all right, she's with me," Chip assured him. "Glory, these are my friends - Spike, Sparkplug, and Carly."

Glory ducked her head low and waved shyly.

"Aw, she's adorable!" the "femme" gushed, smiling warmly. "Look at those big eyes..."

"Optics, Carly," the younger "mech" corrected.

"Technicalities, Spike," she huffed, lightly punching his shoulder before turning back to Glory. "Come sit down! I've never seen such a little Cybertronian before!"

"Don't crowd her too much, Carly," Sparkplug advised. "She's had a rough time of it here."

Glory edged a little closer before sitting down on the floor, not taking her optics off the humans. Chip steered himself up to the table, and Spike scooted his chair over to make room for him.

"Glory's a little scared of the Autobots," Chip informed the others. "She's afraid they'll get her if she's out in the halls."

"Aw, the Autobots wouldn't hurt you," Spike assured her. "They're some of the nicest people I know. Take Bumblebee, for instance..."

Glory pulled her knees to her chest, hugging her legs against her. "B-b-but they hurt Uncle T," she protested. "They chased me and chased me and the big red one tried to grab me... they blew up the lab where Mommy and Daddy worked and..." Tears began building up in her optics, and she ducked her head to keep the humans from noticing.

"Aw hell," muttered Sparkplug. "The poor thing's been traumatized by them already..."

"But the Autobots wouldn't hurt HER!" Spike insisted.

"Spike, she still sees them as the enemy," Sparkplug retorted. "And for good reason, if they've killed her parents and she's seen them damage friends and family firsthand. And who knows what Megatron's been telling her. Just drop it for now, all right?"

Spike didn't look too happy with Sparkplug's order, but he kept quiet.

"Who's Uncle T?" asked Carly gently, standing up and edging a little closer to Glory. "Is he really your uncle, or just someone you call 'Uncle?'"

"He... he's really my uncle," she replied, relieved at the change of subject. "He's Mommy's co-creation. His real name's Thundercracker, but I call him Uncle T. He likes it."

"Does he take good care of you?" asked Chip.

She nodded. "He's the best. He reads me stories and takes me flying and helps me clean up when I play a joke on someone and it gets messy. And he lets me watch while he plays on his computer and goes on raids with his guild..."

"His guild?" A wry grin appeared on Chip's face. "Thundercracker plays World of Warcraft? What server?"

"Uhh..." She screwed up her face plates in concentration. "Ner'zhul, I think..."

Chip's eyebrows raised in surprise, then his grin widened. "What's his guild?"

"Royal Stormhawks. His computer name's Rollingthunder."

Chip burst into laughter.

"What's so funny?" she asked, cocking her head at him.

"Oh dear," Chip giggled. "Well... next time you see your uncle... tell him Anklebiter says hi, okay?"

"Okay," she replied, smiling a little herself. She wondered what Uncle T would have to say when he learned that one of the humans at the Autobot base was in his guild...

The door slid open again, admitting a scarlet-and-white mech with a black helm and stubby horn-like projections jutting from the top of his head. Glory froze, every joint and cable in her body tightening in fear. Chip had promised her there'd be no Autobots! He'd promised her she'd be safe here... and she'd trusted him...

"Hey Spike, thought you were gonna meet us outside for a trip to Portland!" the Autobot demanded. "What gives?"

"Something came up..." Spike replied sheepishy.

"Sideswipe!" Sparkplug barked. "You're not allowed in here! Didn't you get the order?"

"Why, what's the deal?" he asked, sounding put out. "Not like this room's infected with Cosmic Rust or anything..." He spotted Glory, and a blank look spread over his faceplate. "Oh... that's why."

Glory tensed, getting ready to bolt. There was no other way out of this room but the way the Autobot had come in... but maybe if she was fast she could dash past him and make it to the hallway...

"Heya kiddo!" Sideswipe gushed, crouching as close to her level as he could and waving at her. "So you're the vicious little monster that scratched my brother's paint job, eh? What's your name?"

Brother? The name "Sideswipe" clicked into place at that moment, and she trembled in fear. Kickback and Bombshell had described Sideswipe and his twin to her in cold, menacing tones not so long ago... _"...almost always fighting side by side... as brutal and oil-thirsty as the Dinobots, but much smarter... and much more dangerous because of that..."_

"What's the matter?" he asked, cocking his head to one side. "Cassette-cat got your vocalizer?"

"She's scared, Sideswipe," Carly informed him. "Leave her alone..."

"She thinks I'm scary?" asked Sideswipe, a look of disbelief on his face. Then a wicked grin crossed his lip plates. "Well, of COURSE she thinks I'm scary! Why wouldn't she be? I'm the scariest Autobot that was ever assembled!" And he threw his head back and gave a booming laugh that would have been frightening had it not been so over-the-top. Glory, for her part, just stared, completely confused by now and wondering if she should laugh or run for her life.

"Sideswipe," Sparkplug growled warningly.

"Aren't I scary, kid?" Sideswipe went on, ignoring the human. "Huh? Aren't I?" He bared his dental plates in a comically exaggerated snarl, a snarl that ended in a rather undignified snort as he struggled not to laugh.

Glory couldn't help herself - despite her fear, a giggle slipped out of her vocalizer.

"What's that, laughter?" demanded Sideswipe. "You aren't supposed to laugh! I'm SCARY! Really, I am!" He raised his hands, fingers hooking like claws, and pulled a goofy face that so resembled Wildrider's crazy expression that she burst into giggles all over again. "Hey, you're laughing again! Stop that! I'm supposed to be scaring you! Chip, tell her to be scared!"

Chip just laughed. "I dunno, Sideswipe, seems she's made up her mind about you."

"Well, phooey." Sideswipe sat back on his aft and stared at Glory, a mock pout on his face that just set her off into giggles once more. "There goes my reputation, kid. Thanks a lump."

Glory covered her mouth in an effort to stifle her laughter. "You're funny like Skywarp."

"Skywarp, eh?" Sideswipe gave a shrug. "Well, I guess there's worse Decepticons to be compared to... What's your name?"

She almost answered, then closed her mouth firmly. It was against Onslaught's rules to answer Autobots' questions, even if the Autobot was funny and friendly...

"She's under orders not to talk to Autobots, I think," Spike told Sideswipe.

"Well, I can't call her 'kid' all the time, can I?" Sideswipe demanded. "What about 'Shorty,' eh? Or 'Violet,' that works since you're purple..."

"Her name's Glory," Carly told him firmly. "And be nice to her. It's not her fault she's here."

"I AM being nice," Sideswipe pointed out. He gave Glory a long look, then pulled one more crazy expression that reduced her to giggles again before getting up. "Well, have fun with the kid, guys. Glory, say hi to the 'Cons for me when you get back, and tell Starscream I owe him a beatdown. See ya." And he walked out, the door hissing closed behind him.

Glory stared at the doorway, half-expecting another Autobot to appear. Funny... Sideswipe hadn't tried to hurt her or anything. He'd just treated her the same way Skywarp or the Stunticons did - like just another sparkling.

"Sorry about him," Sparkplug said by way of apology. "He's a little much to handle sometimes. Do you want some energon?"

She nodded. The cube Chip had given her had boosted her energy levels somewhat, but she still wasn't up to full capacity yet.

"Spike, come with me and we'll see what we can find," Sparkplug ordered, and the two of them walked out.

"So tell us a little more about yourself," Carly encouraged, patting Glory's hand gently. "What do you like to do?"

* * *

"...and sometimes I help the cassettes out, though Uncle T doesn't really like that, especially when it gets one of the big guys angry. Like when we glued and feathered Motormaster and he chased us all over the base."

"He didn't catch you, did he?"

"Nuh-uh. His tires blew out. He was MAD, though..."

Optimus Prime suppressed a chuckle as he listened to Blaster's recording of the humans' conversation with the sparkling. Judging from what Glory said, perhaps it was time he started following Megatron's example and sending the cassettes into the Nemesis to record events such as this. What he wouldn't give to see Motormaster's expression once Rumble and Frenzy's prank had hit him.

"An' that's about the time Chip ducked out," Blaster informed him once the tape had run out, transforming back to robot mode. "Not much there that's useful, but at least we know a bit more about the kid an' how she got here."

"Very good, Blaster. I expect a copy of the recording as soon as you can create one. You're dismissed."

"Roger, Optimus Prime!" Blaster grinned, saluting. "Over an' out!" And he ducked out of the room.

Prime now turned to face the other officers present - Jazz, Prowl, Ratchet, Ironhide, and Red Alert. Jazz was still snickering, a wide grin plastered across his faceplate. Ratchet, likewise, wore a look of intense amusement from what the sparkling had unknowingly related to them. Prowl was expressionless, an unfocused look to his optics as he processed and analyzed what he had just heard. Red Alert just looked annoyed, and Ironhide seemed desperate to say something but was keeping his vocalizer silent with great effort.

"I don't care if she's cute," Red Alert piped up the instant he felt he had Prime's attention. "She's a security risk. We don't have any proof that her coming into the base was an accident. The Decepticons could have set this entire thing up to get her in here, where she can spy for them or plant a bomb or spread a computer virus..."

"I have a hard time believing even Megatron would stoop that low," Ratchet cut in. "He's done some pretty despicable things in his time, but no way he'd endanger a sparkling, especially a femme, by using her as a spy or some kind of suicide weapon. He's never done it before..."

"That doesn't mean he won't do it NOW," Red Alert pointed out.

"Ratchet did give her a complete scan while he was repairing her," Prowl said calmly. "She is clean. Thus the 'living weaponry' theory is moot."

"Still, she could be a spy..." Red Alert insisted.

"Aw, come on!" Jazz exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. "She's just a kid who ran into trouble an' got rescued by th' wrong side! She ain't a spy. She ain't got th' training, an' she ain't gonna know what ta look or listen for while she's in here. An' Megatron's got Soundwave's lil' minions for spies, he don't need ta send a kid. Not everything's a conspiracy, Red, trust me."

Red Alert glared at Jazz but didn't comment.

"Prowl, what else were you able to deduce from the information Blaster and Chip have provided?" Prime inquired.

Prowl gave a faint smile. "That she is being adequetely maintained and entertained at the base, that the Decepticons are taking her welfare seriously, and that by all appearances she is happy and content there. She has friends and relatives there that she cares for, and she considers it her home. In short, she is better off being returned to the Nemesis than kept here much longer." His grin widened. "In fact, judging from the chaos she is capable of stirring up among the Decepticons, it may benefit our cause to return her."

"I agree, Prowl," Prime replied. "As it is, we've kept her here for too long, even if it was necessary to determine the best place for her. Now that she has come out of hiding, I propose that we return her to the Decepticons."

Ironhide couldn't contain himself any longer, and he slammed the flat of his palms against the table and shoved himself to his feet. "You're outta yer processor, Prime!"

"Ironhide..." Prime said warningly.

"We don't HAVE to send her back!" insisted Ironhide. "She's calmin' down nicely, judgin' by what Chip's told us. Sooner or later she'll be okay with us, an' then we can raise her as an Autobot..."

"Here?" demanded Red Alert. "We might as well paint a target over our door. Sooner or later the Decepticons will come here looking for her..."

"Then we send her back to Cybertron," Ironhide countered. "Prime, we can put 'er in the care of the femmes. Chromia an' Elita'll take good care of 'er, raise 'er up right, an' keep 'er safe. By th' time th' 'Cons find 'er again, she'll be upgraded an' a 'Bot..."

"Ironhide!" Prime snapped, cutting him off. "What you are suggesting is manipulation of the worst kind! We have no right to CPU-wash a _child_ into betraying the only family she has ever known."

"Ya know what'll happen to 'er if we give 'er back, Prime," Ironhide said angrily. "She'll be turned into a soldier. Megatron'll have 'er upgraded into a warrior an' send 'er out t' fight against us. If we let 'er go back, then sooner or later we'll be facin' 'er on a battlefield. An' knowin' Megatron, that'll be sooner rather than later." He gave Prime a defiant look. "Ya want that on your conscience? Knowin' ya sent a sparklin' to her death?"

Prime regarded his old friend coldly. "I have no control over her future, Ironhide. Nor should I. Freedom is the right of all sentient beings. Not just the right of Autobots, but ALL sentient beings. We have no right to seperate this sparkling from her family and turn her against them - indeed, that can only harm her in the long run. If returning her means that eventually we must fight against her... then that's a risk we must take." He turned to the rest of the officers. "Any objections?"

"I admit I don't like it," Ratchet said with a frown. "But I have to agree with you. We should send her back."

"Sorry, but I'm sidin' with 'Hide on this one," Jazz chimed in. "She ain't gonna have any more choice in her future if she goes back to th' 'Cons, is she? At least with th' Autobot femmes, she'll be safe, right?"

"Having a Decepticon sparkling among our femmes will only attract Shockwave's attention," Red Alert countered. "That child is a security risk wherever she is. I'm with Prime - we should return her as soon as possible."

Prime glanced at Prowl, hoping the strategist had something useful to offer.

"Sadly, there is logic to both sides of this argument," Prowl replied to Prime's disappointment. "I must think on this further."

"We don't have time for that," Prime told him. "We need to make a decision, and make one quickly... before Megatron or Thundercracker decide to drop by with an army to pick the sparkling up."

Prowl nodded, as if that remark had tipped the scales for him. "Then we return her. It's safest for everyone involved."

Ironhide and Jazz began shouting protests, but a glare from Prime silenced them immediately. Ironhide sat down heavily, a mutinous look on his face. Jazz merely shook his head and offered an "I hope you know what you're doing" expression.

"I'm contacting the Nemesis to arrange a pick-up," Prime informed them. "No Autobots are to disturb the sparkling until then. If I find that ANYONE..." He cast meaningful looks at Ironhide and Jazz. "...has tried to interfere in any way, there will be slag to pay."


	15. Rendezvous

"Lord Megatron, incoming message from Autobot base," Soundwave intoned, turning away from the monitor to address his leader. "Sender: Optimus Prime."

Megatron could think of about two dozen things that, at the moment, took higher priority than listening to the Autobot leader's latest lecture or proposal for ending the war peaceably. Perhaps Prime had the spare time on his servos to hassle the opposing faction like this, but Megatron currently had a crisis on his hands. No trace of the sparkling had been found, Thundercracker was in a constant state of near-hysteria, Swindle was holed up in his quarters and refusing to come out, the Stunticons were more uncontrollable than ever, and Rumble and Frenzy had promptly freaked upon returning from their mission and learning of Glory's disappearance. That and he still had a mangled energy collector in the Constructicons' lab as a glaring reminder of their last failed mission, and a nearly uncontrollable horse-former drone locked in the brig - upon coming online after his repairs, Wildfire had gone berserk upon finding his charge missing and taken off Hook's right arm before they could subdue him.

He had half a mind to ignore the message, or even let Starscream field the call. That last option would at least be halfway entertaining, and Primus knew he could use a laugh about now. But common sense prevailed.

"This had better be important," he snarled at length. "Put it through."

Optimus Prime appeared on the screen, his expression as ever sealed behind his mask and his optics betraying no emotion. Despite his hatred toward the Autobot commander, Megatron did have to admit a grudging respect for him. No matter how desperate or even ridiculous the situation was, Prime seemed to always face it calmly and with dignity. And whatever issue had driven him to make contact with the Decepticons was no different - he betrayed no hint of anger, fear, or annoyance.

Which, of course, only made it all the harder for Megatron to begin to fathom just WHAT the issue could be. Hopefully Prime was forthright regarding said issue.

"What do you want?" he demanded.

"You really know how to start a conversation, Megatron," Prime noted wryly.

"If you've contacted me merely to insult me, I won't hear it," Megatron snapped. "I have more important matters to see to."

"I guessed as much," Prime replied. "Which is why I wish to speak to you. We've found something you've lost."

It was a vague statement, annoyingly free of detail... but one that contained a wealth of meaning, meaning only a fool could have overlooked. Megatron's optics flared in rage as he realized just what Prime was insinuating, and he strode toward the screen and struck the console with a blow hard enough to make the image jolt and sputter.

"I should have known all along," he growled. "I should have guessed that you snatched up the sparkling for your own purposes. Just what were you intending to do, reprogram her into an Autobot? Turn her against her own kind? And here I thought you would never stoop that low..."

"Megatron," Prime interrupted calmly. "You assume too much. Humans encountered the child and delivered her to our troops. We have done nothing to her save repairing her injuries and offering her fuel. And it is my intention to return her to her family."

Megatron had opened his mouth to continue his rant, but slowly shut it as Prime explained his intentions. So, the Prime's overdeveloped sense of honor had prevailed after all. Unsurprising, really, but still, one never knew... he could just as easily have decided that their need for troops was great enough to discard honor, or that the sparkling would be under better care with their forces.

"You will return her to the Nemesis within twenty-four hours, Prime," Megatron demanded. "And she had BETTER be unharmed..."

"How am I to know you won't capture whoever delivered her?" Prime replied evenly. "We'll choose a meeting place and deliver the sparkling there, under conditions of cease-fire."

"Very well," Megatron conceded. "But be warned... any attempts at treachery, and I WILL make you live to regret it."

Prime raised his hands. "I am not a treacherous mechanism, Megatron. You should know that by now. And Decepticon or not, I will NOT use a sparkling's life as a bargaining chip, nor will I turn her against everything she knows and cares for." He delivered a set of coordinates. "We will meet you and your troops there in twenty-four hours." And the screen went dark.

Megatron turned and strode out of the control center, heading for the Seekers' quarters. Part of him felt a sense of relief that this fiasco would soon draw to a close... but another part of him knew that he had to find some way to keep this situation from happening again. The Autobots knew the Decepticons had a weak spot now, and though Prime might consider the sparkling off-limits when it came to the war, not all of Prime's troops would think the same.

* * *

Despite every rule and warning to the contrary, Ironhide couldn't help but take a detour through the restricted area of the Ark and sneak a peek inside the lounge where the sparkling was currently staying. He knew Prime was keeping an especially close optic on him due to his behavior at the meeting, and that if he were caught at this he could be in trouble. But in his CPU, the risk was worth it. If it kept a young innocent from being harmed by Megatron, so be it.

The sparkling - Glory, Blaster had called her - lay on a bench in the back of the lounge, optics dim as she recharged. One of the humans had covered her with a couple of large blankets, an action not really necessary for a Cybertronian but a touching gesture nonetheless. The young femme looked so peaceful and calm now, nothing like the terrified child that had fought so hard to get away from him earlier. He smiled a little wistfully, wishing their first encounter hadn't been so horrifying on her part. Perhaps he'd been a bit too brusque...

Chip's wheelchair was parked next to the bench, and the young human was working on a laptop as he kept watch over her. Upon spotting Ironhide in the doorway he shook his head and motioned for the Nissan to continue on his way. He nodded in reply and took his leave, though not without one last look at the sleeping sparkling.

 _Primus, th' 'Cons don't deserve her,_ he thought as he continued to the Common Room. _Sweet young thing like that belongs with mechs that'll take care of her, not just groom her t' be a soldier..._

Except for Sideswipe toying around with something at one of the corner tables, the Common Room was empty when Ironhide walked in. The red Lamborghini held a silvery object that looked somewhat like an extra-long spring in his hands and was shifting it back and forth, creating a metallic izing/i sound with every movement. He glanced up at Ironhide, saw the look of confusion on his face, and flashed a grin.

"Slinky," he said by way of explanation. "Humans love 'em. Wheeljack found an old coil in his lab and made me one. They're fun."

"Ah'll take yer word for it," Ironhide replied, fetching an energon cube and sitting down across from Sideswipe. "Where's yer yella shadow?"

"Sunstreaker's hiding in his room," Sideswipe replied, attention going back to the Slinky. "Hoist won't touch up his paint job until he's done with the repairs on the south gun turrets, and he refuses to be seen with scratches in his plating." This obviously amused Sideswipe to no end, though he didn't say so. "Whatcha doing up so late, Ironhide? Thought your systems normally crashed this hour."

Ironhide snorted, electing to ignore the jab for the moment. "Thinkin'."

"About the kid?" Sideswipe guessed. "She's cute. Skittery thing, though."

"She'll calm down," Ironhide insisted. "Give it a few weeks. She'll realize she ain't got nothin' to fear."

"I dunno, if Autobots killed my creators in front of me, I'd be a bit freaked by them too." He arced the Slinky to his right hand and let it settle there in a gleaming cylinder. "And I thought the plan was to give her back before the 'Cons showed up in person to rescue her."

"That's Prime's plan," Ironhide replied balefully.

Sideswipe looked up from his toy and gave Ironhide a calculating look, catching the subtle hint. "But not YOUR plan, I'm gathering. You're up to something, aren't you?"

"Sides, th' 'Con base ain't no place for a sparklin'," Ironhide insisted. "If she goes back there, she's dead, plain an' simple. If some brute of a 'Con don't vaporize her for gettin' on his sensory circuits one too many times, then she gets sent into battle and is as good as dead anyhow. I ain't gonna let that happen while I can prevent it."

"You can't keep her here," Sideswipe countered. "We're having to chase cassettes out of here every other week. If they don't already know she's here, they'll figure it out eventually..."

"I wasn't thinkin' about keeping her here," Ironhide retorted. "I've already talked t' Jazz an' Skyfire 'bout this, and we've got a plan. We'll sneak her t' Cybertron an' let th' femmes there raise her. There she'll at least have a chance t' live t' see her upgrade."

"Wow," said Sideswipe in a voice dripping with sarcasm. "Fantastic plan, Ironhide. Why didn't I think about that? Oh, because it's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"Yer a fine one t' talk, Mr. Jet Judo..."

"Have you thought this through? What happens when Prime finds out? Don't think you can hide this from him. And what happens when Megatron finds out where she is? It's as good as planting a bomb in the femme's base. We already had to bust our afts to find them a new hiding place once, I don't think we can do it again..."

"Th' femme base is th' safest place!" Ironhide insisted. "No way Megatron or Shockwave could find her there! As for Prime... I'll get him to understand this is th' best option."

Sideswipe shook his head. "And just why are you telling me this?"

"'Cause we need your help, Sides. We need ya t' stage a distraction..."

"Nuh-uh." Sideswipe went back to playing with the Slinky, deliberately exaggerating his arm movements so the metallic hissing of the metal coil would drown out Ironhide's words.

"Sideswipe!" Ironhide reached out and batted the Slinky out of his hands. "You ain't listenin'!"

"I've listened plenty," Sideswipe retorted. "And no way I'm risking my chassis on this plan."

"Risk ain't stopped ya before..."

"Risk I don't mind. Suicide I do. Leave me out of this..."

"What's going on in here?"

Ironhide and Sideswipe glanced up to see Ratchet walking into the room, a suspicious look on his faceplate. Ironhide wondered just how much of the conversation the medic had overheard. He'd been present at the meeting, after all, and heard Ironhide's complaints beforehand...

"Just talking about the kid," Sideswipe offered lamely. "Wondering how long she's staying here."

Ratchet snorted. "Not any longer. She's on her way back to the Nemesis."

Ironhide stiffened, sensing the window of opportunity slamming shut on him. "When?"

"Right now."

Frag. "If Prime needs someone to take 'er to th' rendezvous point..." he began, hoping they could still salvage the rescue mission somehow.

Ratchet barked a laugh. "Prime's taking her himself, with Prowl and Grimlock as backup in case Megatron tries anything. He just left the base with the sparkling."

"What?" exclaimed Ironhide. "I was just by there an' she was sound asleep!"

Ratchet raised an optic ridge, but he elected not to comment on Ironhide's breach of the rules. "Evidently he decided it was best if he handled this himself. He was probably just a matter of minutes behind you."

Sideswipe blasted a sigh through his vents. "Well, she's not our problem anymore, in that case. All's well that ends well, right?"

"It is NOT ending well!" Ironhide protested, desperate to get somebody to see his point.

"Not this again, Ironhide," complained Ratchet. "Look, we heard it from the sparkling herself. She's happy with the Decepticons, they're her family, and they're taking care of her. It would be criminal to keep her here any longer than we already have, and just downright shameful to cut her off completely from the only life she knows. Would you interfere if it were a human child being seperated from her family?"

"That's different!" Ironhide snapped. "This involves the 'Cons..."

"It involves a _Decepticon_ child with a _Decepticon_ caretaker," Ratchet corrected. "I know you don't like the 'Cons. Slag, nobody here likes the 'Cons. But there comes a point where we can't let our hatred bring harm to someone innocent. You can compute this however you want, Ironhide, but I can't and won't support your views on it." And with that, the medic turned to the energon dispensers for his evening ration.

Ironhide just growled and thunked his cube against the table as Ratchet got his energy and Sideswipe resumed his activity with the Slinky. Confound the medic for complicating matters more than they already were. Was the white mech correct, and Ironhide had just barely avoided making the biggest mistake of his functioning time? Or were Ironhide's fears founded after all, and Prime was delivering her to her eventual doom?

* * *

Skywarp continued to pound on the door to Thundercracker's quarters, not caring that he'd been at it for over half an hour and the blue Seeker still hadn't given any indication that he heard him or cared. "Open up already, TC! I look like an idiot out here!"

No answer.

"I can hack the lock, you know. Or have the cassettes break the door down. And you know they would, too. You're not the only one who's worried about the kid, all right?"

Still no answer.

The black Seeker finally gave up abusing the door and set to overriding the locking mechanism. In the three days that Glory had been missing, Thundercracker had entered a weird state somewhere between depression and hysteria, walking through the halls without seeming aware of his surroundings, snapping at anyone who addressed him or brushed against him. When not on duty or joining the search parties he had taken to haunting the docking bay, waiting for the return of any searchers and immediately plying them with questions the moment they returned. And he hardly even spoke to Skywarp anymore, which did upset him on some level but disturbed him more.

The door finally hissed open, and Skywarp stepped inside his wingmate's quarters. "TC?"

Thundercracker was sitting on his berth, staring down at something that hung limply from his hand - something anyone who had spent much time in the base could have recognized.

"She left Dragon behind?" Skywarp asked, sitting down in Thundercracker's computer chair.

He nodded, not taking his optics off of the toy. "She must not have wanted to lose him outside," he said quietly.

Skywarp looked down at his feet for a moment, trying to think of something comforting to say. But comfort wasn't exactly a Decepticon's strong suit, so all he could manage was "How's Wildfire holding up?"

Thundercracker sighed. "He's freaked. Almost killed Hook when he came back online. He's down in the brig now, throwing himself at the walls and screaming for Glory." His tone sounded almost envious, as if he wished he could break down and scream just as the horse-former was doing.

"TC," Skywarp said softly, "we'll find her. I promise."

"The ocean's huge," Thundercracker murmured. "It's like hunting for a screw in a junk heap."

"So? She's bright, she'd know to stay around the base so she could be found. Maybe she's just scared and hiding."

"Currents could have taken her anywhere by now..."

"Come on, you're talkin' like she's dead. Have some hope, TC."

"I've tried, Skywarp," Thundercracker replied in a cold voice, finally looking up. "Primus, I've tried. But every time the search parties come back empty-handed my hopes sink a little lower. I... I've got to start accepting the inevitable."

"What you've got to start doing is quit moping and have some hope, all right?" Skywarp stood and strode over to the blue Seeker, gripping his shoulders and shaking him slightly to get his attention. "Listen to me, TC, you're not the only one who's worried about her. She's got people here who care about her, and will do everything they can to find and rescue her. Please, don't give up on her so soon. We'll find her, and she'll be all right. Trust me."

Thundercracker sighed and stood, tucking the dragon into subspace. "I wish I had your faith, Skywarp," he said quietly, and strode past him and to the door. Skywarp gave an exasperated sigh of his own and turned to go - only to find Megatron blocking the doorway.

"Thundercracker, Skywarp, come with me," the Decepticon leader ordered in an urgent tone. "We've found her. And she's alive."

Skywarp felt something in his chest compartment lighten at those words, as if a great pressure on his spark had just been relieved. He couldn't resist giving a whoop of excitement, even with their leader standing right there. She was okay! There was a Primus after all, looking out for them... But the odd tightness around his spark chamber returned as he pondered Megatron's statement. There was something about the tone of his voice...

Thundercracker gripped the doorframe, momentarily weak with relief. "Where is she?" he asked in a low, grateful voice.

Megatron's frown deepened, and his next words shocked both Seekers into complete silence. "Autobot base."

* * *

Alive... Glory was alive. Thundercracker couldn't begin to describe the relief he felt at that announcement. When Astrotrain had dragged back Wildfire, badly damaged and close to death, he had feared the worst had happened to Glory...

But knowing she was in the hands of the Autobots was almost worse.

The entire trip to the rendezvous point was a nightmare for Thundercracker. His CPU churned with worry as he kept position behind Megatron, endlessly cycling through every possible thing that could have happened to Glory as the Autobots' prisoner. True, the Autobots had never been known for treating their prisoners cruelly and weren't likely to start now, especially with a sparkling, but there was still any number of accidents or injuries that could have befallen her at their hands. She could have been damaged during her capture, or she could have attempted an escape and been hurt, or she could have somehow crossed paths with a Dinobot...

And there were other possibilities that, while not deadly, were still terrifying to contemplate. Could they have changed their minds about returning her and opted to make her one of their own? Could they have taken the opportunity to reprogram her, turning her against the Decepticons... and her uncle? Or, if not outright reprogramming her, could they have been feeding her their own propoganda, telling her horror stories about the Decepticons and planting doubts in her processor about her own caretakers? Prime might have no dishonorable intentions regarding Glory, but that didn't necessarily mean the other Autobots didn't harbor such intentions.

 _Primus, if you exist and can hear me, let her be all right,_ Thundercracker pleaded. _Let her be okay, and willing to come home..._

Megatron turned to look over his shoulder at the trio of Seekers behind him. "Skywarp, teleport ahead and see if the Autobots are at the coordinates Prime gave," he ordered.

"Yessir," Skywarp replied, and he blinked out in a flash of violet.

"She's not going to be there, Megatron," Starscream said mockingly. "No matter what their soft-sparked Prime says, there's no way they're going to let her go. We've come all this way on a fool's errand..."

"Shut up, Starscream," Thundercracker snapped, not in the mood for the Air Commander's snark today.

"I'm NOT shutting up!" Starscream retorted. "I'm perfectly within my rights to state my opinion - and my opinion is that we're going to land only to find an Autobot ambush, and we'll only make idiots out of ourselves in front of them. Face it, Thundercracker, we're never going to see the brat again. And for that I can be almost grateful to the Autobots..."

That was it. Thundercracker transformed and grabbed Starscream's wing, yanking the jet around so he was staring him in the cockpit, where his optical sensors were in this mode. "I said SHUT UP, Starscream. And if you don't shut up, then so help me I'll rip your wings off and stuff them so far up you're afterburners you'll be exhausting scrap for a decacycle!" And he kicked the white jet away.

Starscream righted himself and transformed, staring at Thundercracker in shocked anger and sputtering incoherently for a moment. "How DARE you?!" he finally shrilled. "How DARE you strike your commanding officer? Insubordinate fool, I'll have you thrown in the brig for this..."

The unmistakable blast of Megatron's cannon being fired shut both Seekers up, and they turned to see Megatron facing them, his arm-gun pointed skyward. Having gotten their attention, he lowered his arm and glowered at the two of them.

"Thundercracker, another move like that and you'll face serious punishment," he growled ominously. "And Starscream, while his actions were unacceptable, I am in full agreement with his sentiments. Another word out of you this trip and I'll let Hook dissect your vocalizer."

Thundercracker only nodded in reply, while Starscream gave acidic glares to both his wingmate and his commander.

Skywarp chose that moment to reappear, missing the debacle entirely. "Prime, Prowl, and Grimlock are at the plateau, sir, no sign of the kid..." His voice trailed off as he saw the furious expressions on everyone's faceplates. "Um, what'd I miss?"

"Nothing of consequence," Megatron replied in a hard voice. "Decepticons proceed. Arm your weapons but hold your fire unless they fire first." And he resumed his flight.

Skywarp dropped back to talk to Thundercracker. "So what happened anyhow?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

The black Seeker huffed. "Some help you are."

True to Skywarp's word, Optimus Prime waited for them atop the plateau, arm raised to shield his optics from the noon sun. Prowl stood on Prime's right, cradling his rifle in his arms and looking calculatingly up at the approaching Decepticons. Behind the two Autobot commanders, Grimlock shuffled from foot to foot, obviously anxious to pick a fight. Glory was nowhere to be seen, but the Prime's trailer was in full view, and Thundercracker supposed she could be in there.

Prowl tensed visibly as the four Decepticons landed before them, clutching his rifle, but Prime made no effort to ready a weapon. He simply nodded at Megatron as if greeting an ally. "You're early, Megatron."

"Spare me the pleasantries, Prime," Megatron snarled. "Hand over the sparkling."

"We will hand her over to her caretaker," Prime replied. "No one else. I want the rest of you to back away and Thundercracker to step forward."

"Do you think I'm an idiot, Prime?" Megatron snapped.

"Megatron, sir, please," Thundercracker protested, turning toward his leader. Some of his desperation must have gotten through to the Decepticon commander, because he sighed and motioned for the blue Seeker to continue, though he didn't look happy about it in the least.

Prime turned toward his trailer and opened it, reaching inside. Thundercracker started to approach the trailer but halted when Grimlock leaned forward and gave a throaty snarl.

"Grimlock, stand down," Prime ordered. "He's just here for the child."

"Me Grimlock not trust him Decepticon," Grimlock grumbled.

"We don't exactly trust you either!" Skywarp retorted.

Prime pulled something out of the trailer and turned around... and wild relief flooded Thundercracker. The Autobot commander held a recharging Glory in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder. Walking carefully in order to not jostle her awake, he stepped up to Thundercracker and carefully transferred her to his arms.

"Remember what I told you," Prime murmured, quietly enough that Megatron couldn't overhear. "Take care of her. She obviously loves you. Don't let her down."

Thundercracker stared a moment, wondering why an Autobot was giving him this sort of advice. Still, it seemed sincere enough, and Prime wasn't known for his dishonesty. "I won't."

Prime nodded, satisfied, and stepped back. Thundercracker, likewise, hurried back to the others, holding Glory against him.

Skywarp beamed and reached out to pat Glory's shoulder. "What'd I tell you? She's just fine..."

"Hmm..." Glory moaned and stirred, Skywarp's touch awakening her. She lifted her head and booted her optics up, blinking blearily up at her uncle. Then her optics lit up with recognition, and she threw her arms around his neck. "Uncle T!"

"Glory..." He didn't care if Megatron or the Autobots were watching - Thundercracker hugged her tightly, pressing the side of his faceplate against hers. "Glory, I was so scared... I thought I'd never see you again..."

"I'm sorry," she choked, her body shaking with emotion. "I didn't mean to... I just wanted to play outside..."

"Shh," he consoled, rubbing her back in an effort to soothe her. "I'm not angry, Glory. We'll have a talk about you being more careful later, but for now... I'm just glad you're back."

From behind him he could hear a good-natured chuckle. "If only Ironhide could see this," Prime said, a cryptic statement Thundercracker didn't quite understand.

"Decepticons, back to base!" Megatron ordered. "Thundercracker, as soon as we get back I want Glory in the repair bay for a full diagnostic. Then I want to have a word with her."

"Yes sir. May I be present for the debriefing?"

"That is acceptable. Decepticons move out!"

Glory squeezed Thundercracker's neck as he took off, keeping a steady grip. "Uncle T, am I in trouble?"

"No, Glory," he assured her. "I think Megatron just wants to know what happened to you at the Autobot base. You won't mind telling him, will you?"

"Uh-uh," she replied, shaking her head. "Oh, and Anklebiter says hi."

"Anklebiter?" It took a moment for Thundercracker to recognize the name and its significance. "The Autobots play World of Warcraft?"

"Nuh-uh. One of the humans. His name was Chip in real life."

For the first time in days, Thundercracker felt a laugh tickle his vocalizer, and he released it gratefully. Glory was back and safe... and things were finally starting to look up.


	16. Decision

At some point during Glory's debriefing, Megatron was unexpectedly reminded of the time when the Decepticons had taken the Autobot's gunner, Bluestreak, captive. The pathetic Datsun had been so terrified by his capture that he couldn't seem to shut his vocalizer down - it was as if a fuse had blown in his CPU out of pure fright. Not that anything that had come out of his mouth during that hysterical rambling had been of any use to them, as apparently Bluestreak was a champion at monologuing endlessly without actually saying anything of note. In the end, they had traded him back to the Autobots in return for a small energon shipment, mostly just to get him out of the brig before he drove the guards crazy with his chatter.

The interview with Glory wasn't much different. She was relieved and happy to be back home rather than frightened, but like Bluestreak, she had a lot to say, none of it particularly useful.

"...and there was a femme human too! She was nice, and the mech humans were okay too, though there's one that has wheels instead of legs. Actually, he has legs, but I guess they don't work, so he goes around on wheels all the time. But he was still cool, and he played my song for me, and guess what? He plays Warcraft just like Uncle T! Isn't that cool? And he let me sleep in the lounge and made sure the Autobots didn't get me while I recharged. Well, one Autobot came in, he was a big red one, but he was silly and just made faces. But I didn't talk to him, just like Onslaught told me... well, I talked to him a little, but I didn't answer his questions and I didn't let him touch me..."

Megatron remained quiet during the sparkling's rambling, and his silence set the example for the other mechanisms listening in on the conversation to stay quiet as well. Thundercracker sat at the table beside Glory, looking amused at her adventures among the Autobots. Soundwave and Starscream sat on either side of Megatron, Soundwave quiet so he could record the conversation (as one-sided as it was), Starscream staring at the wall and making it quite obvious that he was thoroughly bored with this. Shockwave, present via vidscreen, simply nodded from time to time as if making mental note of certain things to investigate later.

Finally Glory seemed to run out of things to say, and she flopped back in her chair. "An' then I woke up and Uncle T was holding me. And that's it."

"So soon?" Starscream asked sarcastically, then jumped and glared as Megatron planted his foot on the Seeker's.

"Thank you, Glory, for the information," Megatron told her, nodding. "Perhaps we can make some worth of it, and it can aid our cause."

"Am I in trouble, Megatron sir?" she asked, worry creeping into her voice.

"You were in the wrong for leaving the base without telling anyone," Megatron replied, "but I think you've learned your lesson. From now on, you will not leave this base without an adult accompanying you. Am I clear?"

"Uh-huh," she replied, nodding. "Oops, uh, I mean yes sir."

"Thundercracker, you and the sparkling are dismissed," Megatron informed the blue Seeker. "And stop by the brig and release Wildfire before he bashes himself to pieces."

"Yes, sir," Thundercracker replied, standing and taking Glory's hand.

"Is Wildfire okay?" asked Glory, trotting out alongside her uncle. "He was really brave, he fought off sharks and a giant squid..."

Starscream watched the pair go, a distasteful expression on his face as if he'd just drank a cube of tainted energon. "That child is far more trouble than she's worth, Megatron. I keep telling you that, but will you listen to me?"

"I'll begin listening to you when you have something intelligent and pertinent to say, Starscream," Megatron snapped. "You and Soundwave are dismissed. Soundwave, I expect a copy of this conversation on my desk by the end of today."

"Yes, Megatron." Soundwave bowed slightly before walking out. Starscream followed close behind, still grumbling.

"Is there anything further you require of me, Lord Megatron?" asked Shockwave.

Megatron turned to the vidscreen. "Prepare an update to Wildfire's programming and have it sent to Hook. It seems his battle programming does not cover underwater combat, or combat against organics."

"Yes, my Lord," Shockwave replied, "and my apologies - I did not deem organics a threat when I designed the bodyguard..."

"I don't want your apologies, just the programming update," Megatron retorted, sternly but not harshly. "I'll expect it within the week."

"Yes, my Lord." Shockwave snapped a salute before the screen went black.

Megatron finally allowed himself the luxury of a weary sigh before leaving the room, heading for his office. This ordeal could NOT happen again. As trying as Starscream was, and as annoying his irrational hatred toward the sparkling was becoming, he did have a point. The child might be worth something as a soldier someday, but she wasn't worth a fiasco as big as this on a regular basis. And despite his experience with sparklings being limited, he knew they couldn't keep Glory confined to the base forever - sooner or later she was going to get the urge to roam, and it was only a matter of time before they faced a repeat of this mess.

Once in his office, he locked the door and paced slowly, pondering. They had to find a solution... but there weren't many options. Thundercracker had no other family to entrust the sparkling to, and sending her back to Cybertron to be raised as a foundling was pointless, seeing as keeping her out of a foundling home had been the entire point in bringing her here in the first place. They could place extra guards at the exits, but that was a waste of resources in the long run... and besides, even with every exit under guard Autobots and humans were still finding ways to sneak in and out of the base. If a stupid fleshling could find a way in and out of the base undetected, so could a sparkling.

That left one final option, and the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. After all, he had allowed Thundercracker to bring Glory aboard the Nemesis in the first place because she was a potential future soldier. Why waste that potential? There wasn't much more she could learn through observation and secondhand education, and if she was daring enough to venture out of the base on her own, then in his CPU she was ready to move on to the next step in her life, or very close to it. Thundercracker might disagree... but the blue Seeker had never shown signs of disobedience or rebellion before, and doubtless he would concede that this was necessary for both Glory and the Decepticons.

"Hook!" he barked into his radio.

"Yes sir?"

"Prepare the medical center. And ensure you have the necessary parts for an adult upgrade on hand."

* * *

"Everyone step back!" ordered Onslaught, shooing Glory away from the cell door. "He's going to come out fighting!"

"But I wanna see him!" Glory protested. "He's all right, isn't he?"

"He's just fine," Onslaught insisted.

A resounding boom echoed inside the cell as a body impacted against the door, and an angry squeal indicated that even if the mech behind said door was in full repair, he was far from okay.

Thundercracker pulled Glory another step back. "Do as he says."

"But I wanna see Wildfire," she whined. "He sounds scared."

The Combaticons gathered about the cell door, guns out and armed should the bodyguard come out of his cell fighting. As much as Thundercracker didn't get along with the combiner team, he had to admit he was glad for their presence at the moment. Ever since being seperated from Glory, Wildfire had been uncontrollable and violent, almost deadly. And as far as he was concerned, there was no guarantee that being reunited with her would calm him down. There was always that danger that he would remain locked in his berserker mindset, and that he would injure Glory deliberately or unintentionally. Should that happen... a blaster bolt through the lasercore would be the only good defense.

"On three," Onslaught ordered. "Ready Blast Off?"

"As ready as possible," the shuttle replied, one hand on the door release.

Glory hugged against Thundercracker's leg. "I missed him. I hope he's all right."

"I hope so too," Thundercracker replied, though his reasons for hoping so were far different from hers.

"One," Onslaught began. "Two... three!"

Blast Off hit the door release, and Wildfire erupted from the cell in his robot mode, screaming in rage. He skidded to a halt just in time to avoid running into Vortex's legs, then whirled and glared at the gathered Decepticons, body heaving as he cycled air heavily. His optics flashed wildly, and his hands clenched and unclenched spasmodically as he tried and failed to pull his sword out of subspace - thank Primus they'd managed to seperate him from his blade before locking him away.

"Wildfire!" Glory exclaimed, grinning widely. "Here boy!"

"Glory, don't!" Thundercracker ordered, keeping an armgun trained on the horse-former.

Wildfire's head jerked around to stare at Glory, and for the first time that Thundercracker could remember, a smile crossed his faceplate. With a joyous whinny he transformed and hurried to Glory's side, pushing his head against her chest and snorting with relief.

"I missed you," she told him, hugging him around the neck.

"Wildfire bad," he growled, continuing to press his head to her. "Tried to protect. Failed. Bad, very bad..."

"You're not bad!" she protested, patting his shoulders. "You fought off the giant squid and the sharks! You were great! And I'm okay! Look, I'm all right!"

"Not leaving you," he insisted. "Not again."

Thundercracker's internal thermostat beeped in warning, and he realized he was holding his fans in anxiety. He took in a deep, cooling intake, feeling his systems relax. There was nothing to fear here - Wildfire had calmed down enough that he was no danger to Glory.

"Well, that was anticlimatic," Brawl huffed. "Was hoping we'd get some target practice in."

"Shut up," snapped Swindle. "The kid's okay, that's the important thing, right?"

Thundercracker reached down and took Glory's hand. "Don't think I've forgiven you yet for your role in this fiasco. None of this would have happened if you'd watched her like I asked."

"Said I was sorry," grumped Swindle, powering down his armgun and walking off. The rest of the Combaticons followed suit, Brawl still grumbling that the entire affair had ended in a letdown.

"Uncle T, am I in trouble?" Glory asked, for probably the fourteenth time that day.

"A little bit," Thundercracker told her. "But at the moment, I'm just glad you're back. Back and safe." He led her out of the brig and back toward their quarters, Wildfire keeping pace alongside his charge. "But Megatron's right - you've GOT to be more careful from here on out. No leaving the base without me or another adult."

"Don't worry, I won't," she replied, and she sounded very certain about that fact. Doubtless her encounter with the organic monsters and the Autobots had frightened her into obedience, however temporarily.

"Come on, cheer up," he encouraged, squeezing her hand lightly. "You're home and that's what's important, right? Now let's go see Skywarp, he's got a new movie to share with you..."

"GLORY!"

Thundercracker groaned as the twin terrors rounded the corner and spotted Glory. He should have guessed that those two would seek Glory out upon hearing of her return, but he'd hoped to get her safely to their room before they could find her. The last thing he wanted at the moment was for them to hog her attention.

Upon spotting the cassettes, however, Wildfire bristled angrily. A deep snarl rumbled in his chest and throat as he darted forward to plant himself firmly in Rumble and Frenzy's path. They skidded to a halt and backed away as the horse-former braced himself in a wide-legged guard stance, blocking their path and making it obvious that he intended to spring the moment they showed any signs of getting closer.

"Easy, fella," Rumble said nervously, raising his hands. "You know us, we're her friends..."

"Just wanted to say hi," Frenzy added, peeking out from behind the other cassette. "Uh... don't trample us..."

"Wildfire!" Glory snapped. "They're my friends! Be nice!"

Wildfire glared at her, then pinned his ears back and slunk back to her side, though he continued to watch Rumble and Frenzy as if they were energy leeches, ready to strike out at them should they show any signs of hostility.

"Hey kid!" Frenzy said gleefully, dashing forward to hug her. "When we got the news, we were scared stiff!"

"He was gonna say scared silly, but he was that way to begin with, so..." added Rumble with a shrug.

"You can it, outmode!" Frenzy snapped.

"We share a body type," Rumble reminded him. "If I'm an outmode, that makes you one too."

Glory giggled. "You're BOTH silly!"

"Did you have a good time?" asked Rumble, grinning. "Fight off any Autobot cassette pipsqueaks? Bring me a present?"

"Scram, you little pests," Thundercracker ordered. "We're having family time."

"Awww," whined Frenzy. "Are we invited too?"

"We can play later," Glory suggested. "Right now I just wanna be with Uncle T, okay?"

"Hey, no prob, Glory," Rumble replied. "Always another day, right? You have fun, take care, keep your uncle out of trouble." With a jaunty wave the cassette strolled off, Frenzy not far behind.

"I missed those guys," said Glory fondly. "Can I play with them tomorrow, Uncle T?"

"We'll see," he told her, though privately he wondered if he could somehow talk her out of it in the morning. If he was to keep Glory out of further mischief, it was best if her contact with the Nemesis' resident pranksters was kept to a minimum.

* * *

"Something's up with Screamer."

Thundercracker glanced up from his cube. "What else is new?"

"Ha ha," Skywarp shot back. "He's acting funny, even for the Starshriek. He's up to something."

"When isn't he?" Thundercracker replied, knocking back the rest of his fuel.

It had been four days since Glory's return, and as far as Thundercracker could tell everything had gone back to normal. For the first couple of days Glory had been far quieter than normal, sticking close to her uncle and easily startled by sudden noises or entrances. But she had proven more resilient than Thundercracker had guessed, and by her third evening back she had been back to her old self, whispering and giggling with the cassettes and playing with the Stunticons. Wildfire, who for those few days had also been on edge, jumping and snarling at the slightest sound or sudden move, had quieted down and resumed his position as Glory's shadow, though he did remain easily provoked. The entire incident seemed to have been smoothed over, as if it had never happened. Even Megatron hadn't mentioned it since the day of Glory's return.

Thundercracker felt nothing but gratitude that it was this way. He had feared that this incident would scar Glory for life, or worse, make Megatron reconsider letting her stay aboard the Nemesis. But it seemed everyone was content to forget it and move on, and he was perfectly happy to let them.

"Well, you notice that he hasn't griped about Glory since she got back?" Skywarp pointed out. "Or whined to Megatron about shipping her back to Cybertron? Something's up, and I have half a CPU to find out what."

"We've known for vorns you have half a CPU," Thundercracker retorted. "But at least you have the courage to admit it."

"Can you just listen to me without snarking for once?" snapped Skywarp.

"Look, I don't like Starscream any more than you do," Thundercracker told him. "But being paranoid is Breakdown's job. Quit fussing over everything Starscream does. He's probably just moping that his latest plot to off Megatron fell through."

Metallic hoofbeats caught the two Seekers' attention, and they looked up to see Wildfire enter the room, Glory perched on his back. Thundercracker caught her optic and waved her over, and she nudged the bodyguard into a trot to reach him.

"You're a little late," he noted, handing her a cube. "Did you act up during the lesson and get held after class?"

"Nuh-uh," she replied. "Hook had to..." She paused to take a gulp of her fuel. "Hook had to give me a checkup after his lesson, and it took awhile 'cause Wildfire kept trying to bite him. Long Haul sat on him finally to keep him down."

"Sat on Wildfire or sat on Hook?" asked Skywarp with a chuckle.

"Wildfire," Glory replied, giggling.

The horse-former flicked his ears, knowing he was being discussed but not seeming to care. He nosed his own cube a little before plunging his muzzle inside, drinking deeply.

"Another checkup?" asked Thundercracker, frowning. "I thought you just had one."

"Hook said I needed another one," she replied. "Megatron said so, he says."

His systems flickered in surprise at her statement. Why would Megatron order another checkup for her, so soon after the last one? It made no sense. Did he think she had carried some sort of virus back from Autobot base, or that they had managed to damage her in some way? Or was it something else? Did he have some other plan for Glory, and if that was the case, why had he not informed him of it?

He glanced up to see Starscream taking a seat at a table across the room. The red-and-white Seeker met his gaze, his expression that of smug satisfaction. His optics moved to Glory, and a sly smile crossed his features.

Thundercracker pushed himself to his feet. "Excuse me."

"Whatcha doing, Uncle T?" asked Glory, looking up from her cube. Energon stained her upper lip plate, making her look as if she had a glowing pink mustache.

"I need to talk to someone," he replied, pulling a cloth from subspace and quickly wiping her mouth. "I'll be back in a minute, okay?"

"Uh-oh," said Skywarp ominously. "This can't end well."

Starscream's smile didn't shrink an inch as Thundercracker approached him; if anything, it only widened a touch. "So you finally managed to put the pieces together, Thundercracker? I'm surprised at you - you're usually one of the sharper Decepticons..."

"What's the stupid grin for, Starscream?" demanded Thundercracker, planting his fists on his hips.

"Admit it, you knew this was coming," Starscream replied, leaning back in his chair and continuing to give him that self-satisfied grin. "About time, I say, but better late than never, I suppose."

"What's coming? What do you know about Glory that I don't?"

Starscream's optics flickered in surprise. "You really don't know, do you? Perhaps I overestimated your intelligence... but no matter. You'll know soon enough."

Thundercracker grabbed Starscream by the shoulders and yanked him roughly to his feet, bringing him to his optic level. "Tell me what the frag you know about her before I twist your wings off!"

The Air Commander narrowed his optics. "Watch it, soldier. Megatron won't take kindly to you dismantling me..."

"Then spare us both the trouble and spill it," he demanded, shaking him.

"Release me before I report you!" His voice was gruff and irritated, but that oily smile was still plastered across his faceplate.

Thundercracker shoved him back into his chair. "Then I guess you're just bluffing, huh? Talking big and acting big when in reality you know nothing..."

"Oh, I know plenty, Thundercracker. As second-in-command of the Decepticons I know far more information than you'll ever be privy too as a common soldier. I know Megatron's detailed plans for this pathetic dirtball... and I know that sparkling of yours won't be a bother to us for much longer."

His jaw dropped open, and all anger fled, to be replaced with cold dread. "What?"

"You heard me." Starscream sat up straight and made a show of examining his shoulder plating for scratches. "The sparkling went too far this time, Thundercracker. Megatron has no choice but to act."

"He's sending her back to Cybertron?" he asked in a voice that was little more than a whisper.

"No, you idiot, he's arranging her upgrade," Starscream retorted. "It's high time that femme was made an adult, and given true responsibilities around this base. Hook is already seeing to the construction of her adult body, and in a day's time, maybe less, we'll have one less useless brat around here and one more productive Seeker." He gave his trinemate a disdainful grin. "Don't look so shocked, Thundercracker, you knew this day was coming..."

"You're lying," Thundercracker hissed.

"Don't believe me?" Starscream cackled. "Ask Megatron. He'll only confirm it." He picked up his empty cube and stood up. "And be sure to thank him - after all, her upgrade will be taking a huge load off your shoulders, I'm sure." And with that, he strode off.

Thundercracker remained rooted to the spot, CPU whirling with confusion and sudden dread. This couldn't be right. Starscream was just trying to cause trouble. The Air Commander had never liked Glory, and ever since that fiasco with Skyfire back in Peru he'd gone to considerable effort to make Thundercracker's life miserable however he could. This was just some plot of his to make him worry needlessly, right?

But then again, if Starscream was telling the truth... then Megatron's order for Glory to undergo another physical scan suddenly made perfect, chilling sense.

He didn't return to Skywarp and Glory's table, but instead charged for Megatron's office.

* * *

"You can't do this."

Megatron's optics narrowed. "I most certainly can, Thundercracker. It is within my power... and more importantly, it is in the best interest of the Decepticons."

"Yes, but is it in her best interest?" Thundercracker pressed.

"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, Thundercracker," Megatron retorted. "At this point in time, the needs of the Decepticon Empire take precedence over the needs of a single mechanism. This is a war, and sacrifices must be made in order to secure our victory."

Megatron had seemed more annoyed than surprised when Thundercracker told him what Starscream had reported. Doubtless he was rather unhappy that Starscream was overstepping his authority, though something told the blue Seeker that Megatron had half-expected his second-in-command to leak the news prematurely. But he had confirmed Starscream's rumor as fact, and had seemed both surprised and irritated that Thundercracker had balked at the news.

"When were you planning on telling me about this?" asked Thundercracker, unable to keep the resentment fully from his voice. "As her guardian, I have a right to know..."

"You would have been informed in due time," Megatron replied. "But that is beside the point. Thundercracker, you cannot deny that this is best for everyone involved. Glory is useless on the battlefield and all too vulnerable to attack. This recent incident has proven that even the precaution of a bodyguard is not enough to protect her. The upgrade will ensure that this doesn't happen again, and will give her a productive role aboard the Nemesis."

"But sir, she's too young," Thundercracker insisted. "Most sparklings aren't even considered for an upgrade until they're at least three or four vorns old..."

"Times are desperate," Megatron interrupted. "We need soldiers, not sparklings! We cannot wait another three vorns for her spark to mature. It is time we accelerated her development and proceeded with the upgrade."

"She doesn't know nearly enough to be a soldier!" Thundercracker protested. "She hasn't completed her education!"

"Any further training from this point forward will be on a firsthand basis," Megatron countered. "There is little more she can learn by observation. It is time she took an active role in the war, and learned firsthand how to fight and defend herself."

Thundercracker clenched his fists, desperate anger coursing through his circuits. This was exactly what Windblade had feared would happen if Megatron learned of Glory's existence. She had tried to keep her a secret, hoping to give her a normal childhood and development rather than be upgraded and forced into the role of soldier at the first opportunity. If he allowed Megatron to have his way with her... it would destroy everything his sister had worked so hard to achieve.

"Sir, you can't do this," he repeated.

Megatron leveled a cold glare at the Seeker, optics flashing. "Are you challenging me, Thundercracker? Do you dare defy my orders? I would have expected this from Starscream, but not from you."

"I'm her guardian," Thundercracker insisted, leaving Megatron's questions unanswered. "I know what's best for her, and it's not this!"

Metal impacting on metal rang through his audials, and he stumbled backward and collapsed against the wall, optics clouded with static from the force of the blow. The pain belatedly throbbed in his sensory circuits a moment later, accompanied by a damage readout announcing that his jaw joints were out of alignment. Rubbing his aching jaw, he rebooted his optics and gave Megatron a bewildered look.

"You are treading dangerously close to treason, Thundercracker!" snapped Megatron, optics ablaze with anger. "Do NOT question me again!" He lowered his hand, continuing to glare at him. "The sparkling will report to the repair bay at 1100 tomorrow for her upgrade, and no later. That is final." He held the glare a moment longer, then pointed at the door. "Get out."

"Yes... sir," he grated through his dental plates, pulling himself to his feet and ducking out.


	17. Treason

"Not that it matters in the long run, but you're in my seat."

Thundercracker glanced up to see Dead End standing before him, a datapad tucked under one arm. Despite his face being concealed beneath a mask and visor, he gave an air of being somewhat indignant at finding another Decepticon occupying this corner of the supply room. A dark and dusty nook that had long been neglected by the cleaning drones, it nonetheless suited the blue Seeker's current need to be alone with his thoughts. At least, alone until the Stunticon had come along to bother him.

"Find another seat," he growled. "This one's taken."

Dead End sighed theatrically and pushed another crate closer with his foot. "Very well, then. I suppose it's my lot in life to be pushed around by my comrades - a term I use very loosely, mind." He sat down on the crate and switched his datapad on, scrolling through its contents. "So what are you doing down here? I was under the impression that you Seekers disliked enclosed spaces such as this."

"I don't see how it's any of your concern," Thundercracker snapped.

"Temper, temper; I only asked," Dead End replied, and turned his attention to his datapad.

Thundercracker ignored the Stunticon and returned his gaze to the dusty floor, sinking back into his thoughts. The news that Glory was to be upgraded to her adult form still hadn't quite sunk in. Part of him wanted to believe it was all just some nightmare his CPU had cooked up, and that he would come online any moment now. But the longer he sat here, letting the matter turn over in his processor, the less likely that possibility became.

Megatron seemed under the impression that an upgrade would solve everything, but Thundercracker highly doubted that would be the case. Adult body or sparkling body, Glory was still terribly young and inexperienced. Her spark had yet to mature fully, and she had yet to learn much of the information that would be vital to her on the battlefield and in the world beyond the base she called home. Giving her a full-size body, equipped with weaponry and an alt mode, and thrusting her onto the battlefield without further ceremony or preperation would solve nothing. In his mind, such an action would only only cause further problems. Glory was more likely to injure herself in combat than an enemy, and lacked the training necessary to handle a flight-capable alt mode. There was still much more that she needed to learn before she could become a true soldier... and expecting her to learn everything she needed to know on the job, so to speak, could only end in disaster.

She's not ready. She's still not ready, and I HAVE to get Megatron to see that.

"Ah, so that's the virus infecting your processor," Dead End noted, a hint of dry amusement in his voice. "I should have guessed as much."

Thundercracker glanced up, startled. "When did you become a telepath?"

"You were thinking aloud, Thundercracker," Dead End replied. "Dangerous habit, but I suppose that's the least of your concerns at the moment."

"So you know already?" asked Thundercracker acidly. "Starscream couldn't wait to spread the good news?"

"Oh come now," Dead End replied drolly. "You can't expect to have such an altercation with our beloved Air Commander in a public area of the base and not expect mechanisms to overhear. And my brothers and I were only a table away. We heard quite enough."

Thundercracker blasted air from his vents in frustration. "Great. I'll bet the entire base is gossiping about it now..."

Dead End shrugged. "Most couldn't care less, Thundercracker. Oh, Wildrider and Dragstrip are complaining some, but they'll get over it soon enough. Me... she's doomed either way, so what do I care?"

"You're not helping."

"You never asked for my help."

"You could at least say something constructive..."

"And what sort of constructive advice do you expect out of me? I'm a Stunticon, I can hardly be of any use in this situation."

"What do you mean?"

Dead End slipped his datapad into subspace and looked up to meet the blue Seeker's gaze. "Think about it. My brothers and I were never sparklings like Glory is, and like I presume you were. We were created as adults from the very beginning, our sparks drawn fully ready from Vector Sigma and implanted in full-size bodies right away. Our lives began as adults and as soldiers, and will no doubt end that way very shortly. And to be blunt, we feel we've missed absolutely nothing in not having been sparklings. So you fretting about Glory being upgraded so soon after her creation... well, it's not an issue I can relate to, is it?"

Thundercracker had never really thought about that before. "You don't regret that you missed your childhood entirely?"

Dead End shrugged. "How can I miss what I never knew in the first place?"

True, as far as that went. "This situation's different, though. Megatron created you as adults, and thus you were created with the knowledge and programming you already needed. Glory was created as a child, and she needs time to develop that knowledge for herself - and she still doesn't have much of what she needs to know. Making her an adult now, and a soldier no less... it's too soon. She'll be killed."

"Maybe I can be of some use, then?"

The Seeker and Stunticon looked up sharply to see a yellow-tan Jeep weaving its way between the stacks of crates, pulling up to their brooding place. Swindle transformed and took a seat across from Thundercracker.

"And my private area becomes even more crowded," lamented Dead End. "Ah well, it was bound to happen..."

"What do you want?" demanded Thundercracker.

"You're slagging hard to find when you don't want to be found," Swindle replied, ignoring the Seeker's sharp tone. "Heard about what's gonna happen to the kid, and I thought I'd offer a hand..."

"You've helped enough," snarled Thundercracker. "It's your fault this is happening anyhow. If you'd just watched her like I asked you to..."

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't keep a closer optic on her!" Swindle retorted. "I admit, I could've been more careful. And yeah, if she hadn't snuck out, maybe Megatron would have delayed her upgrade. Maybe not, who's to say? My point is, it happened, I can't go back and fix it, but I'm willing to do something to make things a little better."

"Like what, sell me a cloaking device?" Thundercracker asked, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "I don't need you to make me a sales pitch under the guise of 'helping...'"

"Not a sales pitch," Swindle interrupted. "Something that could actually help you."

"The sparkling is doomed no matter what you do," Dead End pointed out. "Though we could use a little amusement before then, so why not hear him out?"

"Fine," Thundercracker replied irritably. "Just be quick."

Swindle looked to one side, then the other, as if fearing they would be overheard. Once he was satisfied that they were free of potential eavesdroppers, he scooted his seat closer to Thundercracker and spoke in a hushed tone.

"I know... people," he explained. "People who have contact and do trading with some of the Cybertronian groups who aren't involved in the war. You know, the mechs who've decided they don't really want a part in the fighting."

"The neutrals, in simpler terms," Dead End corrected.

"Fine, yes, the neutrals," Swindle replied. "Anyhow, the neutrals have an open-door policy toward taking in refugees and other mechs who can't or won't fight for whatever reasons. And they've been known to accept and adopt sparklings who don't have homes or whose creators don't want them to be forced into the war right off the bat. If we can sneak Glory out of the base and to one of the neutral colonies, they'd be happy to take her in."

"Neutrals," Thundercracker repeated, not quite believing he'd just heard this. "You're suggesting I send Glory off to live with a bunch of gearless Autobot cowards?"

"Hey, not every neutral is an Autobot running away from the war," Swindle shot back. "Some are Decepticons who are wanted for war crimes, or are too old and broken-down to fight anymore and just want a quiet retirement, or mechs who weren't created with a specific alignment and ended up not choosing one or the other. And like I said earlier, a lot of them are also orphans or kids whose creators want to keep them out of the war. And besides, faction doesn't mean a thing to the neutrals - they don't care who you used to be, so long as you don't mean 'em trouble now. At least, that's what my contact says."

Thundercracker scowled. "You're not making this option sound much more appealing than the upgrade."

"Well, would you rather she get the upgrade and get offed the first time she's in a firefight? You gotta look at the options!"

"The option to make her live as an exile, among the scum of Cybertron?"

"The option to let her live period!" Swindle protested. "To live, and to see the end of the war! To have the chance to finish her development and learning before she's made to become an adult!"

Thundercracker leaned back, offlining his optics as he pondered Swindle's suggestion. "If I do what you're suggesting... I'll never see her again."

"That's possible... unless you go with her."

Thundercracker onlined his optics and gave him an incredulous look. "Are you joking?"

"I'm dead serious, TC," Swindle insisted. "It's no harder transporting two mechs than one. The price goes up a bit, but that's about it..."

"What you're suggesting is treason," Thundercracker cut in. "I do that, and Megatron will put a price on my head for deserting."

Swindle shrugged. "I can't make a decision for you, TC. I can only offer you some options. And the way I see it, you can let her get the upgrade now, send her to the neutral colony, or go with her to the colony. You know where to find me once you've made your choice." He turned to go, then paused and turned back. "I can't do this for free, you understand - putting my neck struts on the line deserves some compensation. But I do wanna make up for my mistake, so I'll cut the price in half." And he walked off.

Dead End waited until the Combaticon was long out of sight before turning to Thundercracker. "And I suppose you'll be offlining me about now to keep me from spreading this news?"

Thundercracker gave him an odd look. "You make it sound like you iwant/i me to deactivate you."

"Not especially, but I am curious."

Thundercracker shook his head and pushed himself to his feet. "I don't know yet. At this point, I don't know anything. I need to think about this."

"You do have a deadline, you know," Dead End pointed out. "And not to horn in on a situation that's none of my business, but have you thought about asking the child's opinion on all this? Glory is not stupid - she must be at least somewhat aware that something is going on. And who knows? Perhaps she's actually eager to being upgraded. You never know until you ask."

Thundercracker sighed deeply and stood, brushing dust from his skidplate and the back of his thighs. Though he was loathe to admit it, Dead End did have a point. Whatever decision he made, it would have enormous consequences for Glory, and she did deserve the right to contribute some input of her own. After all, this decision did concern her future from this point forward.

* * *

Glory was sprawled out on Thundercracker's berth when he entered their room, pitting Dragon against a toy tetra-jet in a small but heated battle. He closed the door and quietly watched as she acted out the fight with both toys, doing her best to imitate a cyberdragon's growls and hisses and the roar of the jet's engines. He had to smile at her inventiveness... so much like Windblade's. As a sparkling he hadn't been nearly this imaginative, preferring books and video games to more conventional toys. His sister had been the more creative one, plotting elaborate scenarios when playing and coming up with a seemingly inexhaustable store of pranks...

His reverie was interrupted by a plastic missile hitting him on the cheek.

"Oops!" Glory looked sheepishly up at her uncle, tucking the toy jet behind her as if to hide the fact that she had accidentally fired its missile launcher at him. "Sorry..."

"It's all right," he assured her, bending down and picking up the tiny projectile. "Damage isn't too bad. Nothing Hook can't fix, anyhow, and maybe I can get a medal for being damaged in combat for it."

Glory giggled. "You're silly, Uncle T."

He laughed and sat down beside her, resting a hand on her back. "Once your fight to the death here is over, I need to talk to you."

She looked up at him worriedly. "I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

"No, you're not in trouble," he assured her. "This isn't about you leaving the base." That wasn't entirely true, but he didn't want the news of her upgrade to come across as a punishment or a reward. Best to let her make a decision uncolored by any connection to a previous event.

"Is it about the glitter in Megatron's cannon? 'Cause that was Rumble's idea..."

"Not about that either." He hesitated, trying to find the right words, then spoke, keeping his optics on her to gauge her reaction. "Glory... what do you think about getting your adult upgrade soon?"

She cocked her head to one side as she thought. "You mean becoming big and a Seeker? Like you?"

"Yes, like me. It would mean you get anti-gravs and an alt mode, like the other Decepticons here... and it would mean that you join us in battle when we go out to fight the Autobots. It means taking more responsibility, but it also means you'll be an adult, and treated like one."

"Oh." Her gaze moved to the floor, and a look of serious thought overtook her features. "Does this mean I can't play with the Stunticons anymore? Or Rumble and Frenzy?"

"You would be given duties around the base, such as guard duty and patrol and such, so yes, you'd have less time to play. Also, you'll be much bigger than Rumble and Frenzy after your upgrade."

"Aww," she whined. "But they're my friends! Can't they get upgrades too?"

"They're already adults, so they don't need upgrades," Thundercracker told her.

"Then I wanna be upgraded but stay their size!" she declared, nodding emphatically.

"I don't know if that will be possible," Thundercracker replied. "Soundwave has enough cassettes as it is, and none of the other mechs are equipped to carry cassettes."

She huffed and kicked her feet at nothing in particular. "No fair." Then something else seemed to occur to her. "Would I HAVE to fight Autobots?"

"Yes, Glory, you would," he answered quietly. "You would be a soldier like me. That means doing whatever Megatron requires of you, even fighting."

She bit her lower lip plate in worry. "The Autobots are scary, Uncle T. W-what if they catch me again? And what if the nice humans aren't there to help me?"

"Glory..." He detested playing the devil's advocate here, but he knew he had to be fair and give her all the information possible before she made a choice. "The upgrade will mean you'll be bigger, and have weapons and flight capabilities. If the Autobots try to capture you again, you'll be able to fight back."

She shook her head. "They're still scary! An' they beat you up, remember? An' Wildfire an' I have seen them beat other Decepticons up, even Megatron!"

"Whatever happened to the little femme who was all raring to go fight the Autobots a few months ago?" he asked gently.

She didn't answer his question, only hugged him and buried her face in his cockpit. "I don't wanna upgrade. I don't wanna have to fight. Don't make me, Uncle T..."

"Shh, it's all right," he consoled, gently rubbing her back in an effort to soothe her. "It's okay, Glory, I'm here. And if you're not ready for an upgrade, then it won't happen. We'll wait until you're ready."

"You promise?"

A pause, as he weighed his next words carefully. "I promise, Glory."

She nodded but continued to cling to him like an energy leech, though he did feel her relax slightly. "Love you, Uncle T."

"Love you too," he replied. "Think you're about ready for recharge?"

She nodded. "Can I sleep in your berth tonight?"

"I don't see why not. Now c'mon..." He gently pried her arms loose and laid her down on the berth, rubbing her helm soothingly as he began her lullaby. "'It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside...'"

It didn't take long for her to shutter her optics and drop offline, but Thundercracker remained by her side for a long time, watching her rest and stroking her helm. She trusted him with all her spark, and she had absolute faith that if he promised her her adult upgrade wouldn't come until she was ready, then things would work out that way. Part of him felt touched at that trust... and another absolutely terrified that her trust in him would somehow be broken. For if Megatron had his way, there would be no stopping her upgrade tomorrow, and he would lose all the faith and respect she had in him.

The decision was made. He had to see Swindle tonight.

* * *

"Step right in and have a seat!" Swindle greeted warmly, an enormous grin on his faceplate reminiscent of a used-shuttlecraft dealer as he waved Thundercracker into the room. "Let's get right down to business, shall we?"

"You're keeping your trap shut about this, right?" demanded Thundercracker.

"Of course, of course!" Swindle replied. "I always handle my clients' cases with utmost discretion, provided they pay for it." He waved at a chair as he sat down before his computer. "So I understand you want to book safe passage to a neutral colony?"

"Why else would I be here?" he demanded.

"Right, right... will this be for one mechanism or two?"

"Two. One sparkling, one minibot-sized mechanism." When the Combaticon gave him a confused look, he clarified. "I'm sending Wildfire with her. You know as well as I do that he won't leave her side for anything."

Swindle nodded slowly. "Are you sure you don't need a third ticket out of here? One for yourself?"

"Positive," he replied, trying to ignore the leaden feeling in his fuel tank. That had been a difficult, painful decision to make - whether or not to remain behind while sending Glory to the colony. If he accompanied her, he would only attract attention and increase the chances of both of them being captured before they could make it to the neutrals. If he remained behind, however... not only would he most likely never see Glory again, but he would face severe punishment for his actions. In the end, he had decided to send Glory and accept the consequences. At the very least, his treachery would distract Megatron and buy some time for Glory to make it to the colony without being intercepted.

"Then I'll just ring up my contact and ask him to send someone to pick her up," Swindle replied, his bright tone never wavering as he worked the keyboard. "Seeing as we're on a tight schedule here, they'll have to sneak here through the space bridge instead of sending a transport, and sad to say the price will go up since that's riskier. I'll have the Stunts arrange a distraction while we sneak her out of the base - again, that's extra, but well worth the price in my opinion. We meet our contacts someplace remote, hand the kid over, and they'll see that she gets safely to the colony. Should be easy enough provided nothing goes wrong."

"IF nothing goes wrong," Thundercracker remarked darkly. "Where's this colony you keep talking about?"

"Give me a few astroseconds." Swindle brought up a star map with a few strokes of the keyboard. "Here we go - Beta-Geode, other side of this galaxy in the Fringe worlds. Undeveloped world except for the neutral colony, one semi-intelligent organic race and plenty of non-intelligent organic life forms, nothing dangerous to mechanisms. Get most of their energy from the volcanoes and other natural sources on the planet, but I still negotiate some trade with them for spare parts and other supplies. Run by a former Decepticon general, in case you were wondering, but the colony doesn't take any sides..."

"Does Megatron know about this colony?"

"Know, probably - he knows where most of the neutral worlds are. Care, not likely. Unless they're a threat to the Decepticons he ain't going to bother with them, and most of the neutral colonies are smart enough to keep quiet and not mess with the Decepticons or get involved with the Autobots. 'S why they're called neutrals, after all."

"And you guarantee Glory will be safe there? They won't force her into an upgrade she's not ready for?"

"I promise you, she's in good hands there," Swindle assured him. "They upgrade the kids when they're good and ready, not before."

Thundercracker hesitated, feeling as if he were about to leap into a chasm without his antigravs, and without knowing what was at the bottom. Then he forced a nod. "How much?"

"Twenty thousand, all in advance."

Under different circumstances he would have balked at the price, and as it was he couldn't help but question the sum. "Is that before or after this supposed discount?"

"After. I told you this wasn't cheap, Thunder, so don't say I didn't warn you. Oh, and it's non-refundable."

"Even when you're trying to help, you're still a credit-grubbing scoundrel, aren't you?"

"Hey, putting my lasercore on the line's gotta be worth something."

Thundercracker pulled a case out of subspace and slid it across the table to Swindle. "Ten thousand now, fifteen thousand once Glory makes it safely to Beta-Geode."

Swindle flipped open the case and quickly scanned the packets of energy-credit slips inside, a brief gleam of greed in his optics before he snapped it closed again. "Done. Have Glory ready to go by 0600, and meet me at the south exit. We'll go from there to meet Glory's escort and see her off."

0600... barely two hours away. This was too soon. But he had no choice. "All right. And Swindle... thank you."

"No, thank you," the Jeep replied, tucking the case under one arm. "Need a hand getting Glory's things packed?"

Thundercracker shook his head and left Swindle's quarters, looking up and down the corridor to make sure no one had spotted him here before making his way back to his own room. At this hour most Decepticons were recharging or otherwise entertaining themselves in their quarters, but there was always the odd mech out wandering the halls for whatever reason, and he didn't want to risk bumping into someone out to filch a midnight snack from the energon stores and get them wondering why he was up and about in the middle of the night.

Glory stirred as he opened the door to their quarters, and blearily onlined her optics to peer up at him. "Uncle T?"

"Wake up, sweetie," he told her briskly. "I need to talk to you... and we need to get some things together."

"We going on a trip?" she asked, sitting up and stretching the kinks out of her joints.

"Sort of," he replied. "I'll explain as we pack."

* * *

Now more than ever, Thundercracker wished for a cloaking device or a warp computer, or even just a single stealth program to make this task easier. Seekers were built for speed and firepower, not sneaking quietly around. And at the moment, stealth was what he and Glory so desperately needed.

He checked his chronometer - 0550. In exactly ten minutes they met with Swindle and began the journey to land. Swindle's contact would meet them there, and from there... Glory would begin the next chapter of her life.

Glory tightened her arms around his neck, trying to maintain her perch on his back. He reached up and gave her forearm a reassuring squeeze before making his way down the hall as quietly as possible. Behind him, like a red and gold shadow, Wildfire slunk silently along, his movements much more feline than equine as he padded at his heels. The only sound was the faint tick of the two mechs' feet against the floor alloy and the hushed whisper of their fans working at as low a power as they dared.

"Uncle T?" Glory's voice was only a whisper, but it seemed as loud as a shout in the quiet halls.

"Hm?"

"Why can't you come with me?"

He offlined his optics at hearing her tone - pained and fearful. Primus, she'd lost so much already in her young life, and now she was about to lose the only family she had left. "Because I'm needed here, Glory. And if I stay here, they'll be less likely to chase you. I wish I could go with you... but I can't."

She started to sob, but managed to catch it before it could escape. "I'm gonna miss you."

"I'll miss you too, Glory," he murmured. "Be strong for me. Once the war is over, I'll come back for you, okay?"

"O-okay." She pressed her face to the back of his neck. "Promise?"

"Promise," he replied, and kept going.

The silence in the halls was broken by a commotion of some sort in the distance, sounding as if it was coming from a few corridors over. He caught the unmistakable cackle of Wildrider and the booming laugh of Motormaster, and realized that Swindle's "distraction" must be underway now. He quickened his pace, knowing that once said distraction calmed down, Megatron's suspicions would be aroused, especially if the Stunticons happened to blab about who had ordered the diversion and why...

"And just where do you think you're going?"

That familiar sneer brought Thundercracker up short, and he would have turned around to face the speaker had the thrum of armguns powering up not followed the question.

"I'm going to kill Swindle for selling us out to you," he hissed.

"Swindle?" Starscream repeated, snickering as he moved to stand in front of the blue Seeker, blocking his path. "I should have guessed he'd be involved in this. No, I heard nothing from him. It was Breakdown who let me know just what he and his teammates were up to... and, by extension, what YOU were up to." His optics moved to Glory, and he gave a sly grin that set her whimpering and ducking behind Thundercracker's shoulder vents. "I see you've elected to defy Megatron's orders, Thundercracker. Such a pity - you've thrown away a promising career."

"You're a fine one to talk about defying orders, Starscream," he snarled. "Let us pass. I have to do this."

"You're an idiot, Thundercracker," Starscream retorted. "You're a Decepticon. You answer to your officers, not to some dead co-creation. And as your commander, I order you to hand the brat over! Her upgrade begins soon, after all..."

"She's not ready!" Thundercracker snapped. "How many times do I have to say it? She doesn't want the upgrade, and she's not ready to have her spark shoved into a soldier's body!"

"Hook will be the judge of that." The Air Commander kept one armgun trained on Thundercracker and reached for Glory with his free hand. "And unless you want this treachery reported to Megatron, you'll release her this moment..."

Wildfire decided at that moment that he'd had enough, and before Starscream could touch Glory he launched himself at the red-and-white Seeker, screaming in rage. Starscream shrieked in pain and fear as the bodyguard's forehooves slammed into his abdominal plate with the force of a battering ram, sending him staggering back. Before he could recover from the blow Wildfire struck again, and within seconds he had the Air Commander on the ground and was doing his level best to stomp his faceplate in.

Thundercracker realized he was staring in shock, and he quickly shook his head and bolted away. When he turned for a last look back, Wildfire had transformed and was straddling Starscream's chest, scimitar drawn and raised, Starscream gripping the horse-former's arms in an effort to keep the blade from slashing through his throat.

"Is Wildfire gonna be okay?" Glory whimpered.

"He'll be fine," Thundercracker assured her, sounding a lot more certain than he felt. "He'll catch up to us later..."

Blaster fire whined at his heels, and he gave up running and activated his antigravs. At this point, flight would be faster than attempting to flee on foot. And seeing as Breakdown had blown his cover, speed would do him a lot more good than stealth at this point.

"Hold on tight!" he urged Glory. "We're almost there!"

"Go faster!" she urged, winding her arms more tightly around his neck. "They're catching up!"

"I'm going as fast as..." he began.

Fire erupted at the base of his spinal array, and internal alarms blared as various systems abruptly shut down on him. His antigravs were the first to go, and he hit the floor in a spray of sparks, skidding out of control. He felt Glory release her grip with a scream, felt system after system drop offline in response to the EMP blast, felt his body roughly collide with a wall...

The last thing he saw before blackness shrouded his sight was Megatron's face staring down at him, wearing an expression of mingled anger and disappointment.

"Get the sparkling under control... and get this scrapheap to the brig! Now!"


	18. Consequences

For Thundercracker, the worst part of being locked in the brig wasn't the thought of impending punishment, but the fact that he had no idea what Megatron had done with Glory. And to complicate matters further, no one would tell him what was going on, or even speak to him. Four guard shifts had gone by without a single mechanism addressing him, not even to throw an insult or laugh at his misfortune. And though he was sure that Megatron or Starscream would have plenty to say regarding his act of rebellion, neither officer had stopped by the brig to confront him. It was as if they were determined to let him suffer in ignorance as long as possible.

Only two mechs stopped by to visit him during his incarceration, and neither visit was exactly enlightening regarding Glory.

Thundercracker was trying to wrangle information out of the current guard - and having no luck, as Thrust wouldn't even acknowledge that the blue Seeker was speaking, let alone reply - when Breakdown slipped into the brig, giving Thrust a wide berth as if terrified that the dark red Conehead would pounce and separate his head from his shoulders if he got too close. Thundercracker went silent and just watched the white Stunticon creep in front of his cell and stand there, staying far enough back that he couldn't grab him through the bars.

"Whaddaya want?" Thrust demanded, glaring at the intruder.

"I'm sorry!" Breakdown blurted. "I'm sorry, Thunder, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to squeal!" He shook badly as he rambled, his armor rattling with his trembling. "But I got seperated from the others when we went to stage the distraction and Starscream cornered me, and he was going to tear me limb from limb if I didn't tell him what was going on! I didn't want him to hurt me, but I'm really sorry..."

"Shut up, Breakdown," Thundercracker ordered curtly, but not harshly. Breakdown's confession hardly made the situation any better and did little to dim his anger, but it at least explained why he had betrayed Glory. Trust Starscream to go after the most paranoid Stunticon for information. The Air Commander might be an annoying, treacherous, caustic mechanism, but he certainly wasn't stupid.

"Please don't hurt me," Breakdown whimpered, taking a step back.

"I'm not exactly in a position to hurt you, am I?" Thundercracker sighed. "Tell me what's going on with Glory. Is she all right?"

Breakdown shook his head. "I don't know... ever since Megatron caught us he's made us work triple patrols. We haven't had time to do anything else but refuel and recharge. Haven't had time to see her."

"Frag." He sat down heavily against the back wall of his cell, leaning his head against the cold steel and offlining his optics. Breakdown wasn't going to be any help. He thought about asking the Stunticon to go check on Glory for him, but by the time he onlined his optics again the white car had left the brig. He should have expected that, he supposed, but still, he couldn't help but feel rather annoyed that Breakdown wasn't going to help him any further.

The second visitor stopped by the following day... Skywarp.

"Warp?" Thundercracker said in amazement, getting up from the bench in his cell. "How's Glory doing? Is she all right? Did they go through with the upgrade..."

His voice trailed off as he got a look at Skywarp's expression. The black Seeker wore a rare frown as he regarded Thundercracker, his optics slightly narrowed and his arms folded across his cockpit. The look he gave Thundercracker at that moment could hardly be called friendly - there was something suspicious, even distrustful, about that gaze.

"The whole base knows now, TC," Skywarp told him. "Starscream made sure everyone knew."

"I suppose he's convinced all of you that I'm some kind of traitor," Thundercracker guessed.

"It's Starscream, what did you expect?" Normally any comment about Starscream would be offered with some degree of humor, but Skywarp's voice remained neutral and his expression dark. "But I wanted to hear it from the source rather than from his overclocked vocalizer. Why'd you do it, TC?"

"You know full well why I did it," Thundercracker snapped, annoyed at Skywarp's attitude. "Glory isn't ready for an adult upgrade. She's still way too young. She's not mature enough to be made a soldier, and she needs a lot more training before she's ready to be foisted onto the battlefield. Megatron wasn't listening to reason... and I had to protect her."

"So you went against Megatron's orders?" Skywarp demanded. "Are you stupid, TC? He's our fraggin' leader! His word is law around here! You defy him, you as good as brand yourself a traitor!"

"Just because he's the leader doesn't mean he's always right!" Thundercracker retorted. "I know Glory better than he ever could! I know what's best for her! What he wanted would have killed her! I did what was right, not what was ordered of me."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this out of YOU, TC!"

"You're hearing it now. Get used to it."

Skywarp shook his head. "Do you realize that you've just thrown your life away? And hers? There's no way in the Pit Megatron's going to let you close to Glory now, whether or not she's upgraded. Even if he lets you out of here - and that's a very big IF - you've lost her. I hope you realize that."

Thundercracker had no reply to that.

"Good luck in here," Skywarp told him quietly. "You're gonna need it." And he turned to go.

"Skywarp, wait!" Thundercracker shouted at his back. "Is Glory all right? Is she safe? Please!"

Skywarp acted as if he didn't even hear him. He strode out of the brig without so much as a backward glance.

Thundercracker growled in frustrated rage and slammed a fist against the bars of his cell, ignoring the burst of sparks and the flash of pain that accompanied the gesture. Was this to be his punishment for his disobedience? Never learning of Glory's fate, never knowing if his sacrifice had been a vain one or not? And was Skywarp right - by trying to save Glory's life, had he just lost her forever?

* * *

Despite all their differences, humans and Cybertronians did share one key similarity - both races slept. Every mechanism required regular breaks to rest and recharge their internal components, and to allow their CPUs to defrag, organize their accumulated data, and delete unnecessary files and input. One could always skip a certain amount of recharge by keeping their fuel levels at a high, constant level, but such an option wasn't feasible during an energon crisis. Besides, eventually the lack of defrag would lead to system slowdowns and memory problems. To keep systems running optimally, most mechanisms recharged for at least a few hours every night.

This similarity between the mechanical and organic races led to another similarity - both races dreamed. Just as a human mind didn't sit idle during the night but was constantly alive with activity, a Cybertronian CPU continued to run programs and review data even during a recharge period. Under optimal conditions, any record of this process would be deleted upon reactivation, but when a mechanism was awakened without running the proper startup protocols, the memory of said "dreams" would remain in their databanks.

Tonight, Thundercracker dreamed. It was a troubled, fragmented dream borne of fear, worry, and disjointed memories, but a dream nonetheless.

_"Your co-creation and her bondmate, Decepticon Scientist Piston, were killed in an Autobot attack on the Polyhex labs... One survivor was found in the ruins... a child. Piston and Windblade's creation... Records show her given name as Glory..."_

_Had it all been worth it? The constant drama and CPU-aches in tending a sparkling, the spark-aches and worry, the demands Glory had placed on him, however unwittingly? Knowing now just how much a child was going to burden him, and eventually land him in serious trouble, would he have done it again? Was accepting Glory into his life worth everything he had gone through?_

_"Do you think I made a mistake?"_

_"In taking on the kid? Nah, don't you worry about that. Starscream can whine and yell all he wants, that doesn't make him right..."_

_"Do you really think I can do this?"_

_He had been terrified in the beginning, scared that he couldn't accept the role of a guardian, that he would fail Glory and, by extension, his sister. And yes, he had made mistakes, and his duties as a soldier hadn't exactly made things easier. But though Glory did cause her share of trouble for her uncle, she had brought joy to his life as well. And despite all the times she had angered or annoyed him, the times when she brought a smile to his face or a laugh to his vocalizer made up for it._

_"It was never my intention to bring a child into this world with the sole intention of making a soldier out of her. I want my daughter to mature at a normal pace, to live a normal childhood, to enjoy some portion of her life as an innocent sparkling without the terrible burden of war on her shoulders. And more than anything, I want her to live to see peace restored to Cybertron..."_

_Somewhere in the back of his CPU, he supposed he had known that she wouldn't remain a sparkling forever. All mechanisms matured eventually, and a sparkling shell couldn't support a mature spark indefinitely. But he had hoped to honor his sister's wishes, and fought as hard as he could to do so, even defying Megatron in the process. And yet... it hadn't been enough. Despite all he had worked so hard to achieve, he had failed his sister in the end._

_"Take care of her, Thundercracker. Our sparklings are too precious to lose - no matter what side their creators are on... She obviously loves you. Don't let her down."_

_Perhaps, he thought bitterly, it would have been better for Glory had she remained at the Autobot base. At least there she wouldn't have been forced into a premature upgrade, then shoved into battle at the first opportunity. At least there, she would have been safe..._

_"I never want to hear you say that again, TC. Don't you EVER think that, do you hear me?"_

_Those words struck him like a blow to the chestplate. That wasn't a memory... he had never heard that voice speak exactly that phrase before..._

_"W-windblade?"_

_A slight laugh. "Who else would it be, TC?"_

_"But you're dead..."_

_"Never mind that for now, okay? Just listen to me."_

_For a moment Thundercracker wondered just how this was possible. Had Windblade's spark somehow flared back to life, at least enough to contact him from beyond the Well of All Sparks? Or was his subconscious simply adopting her voice to play devil's advocate? But after that first questioning moment, he stopped thinking about it. He could puzzle it out later. For now, hearing her again was enough for him._

_"Don't go blaming yourself for this," Windblade went on. "And don't you dare suggest that letting the Autobots raise her would have been better. You did everything you could..."_

_"I wasn't able to keep my promise to you, though. I vowed I would take care of her, and not go against what you wanted for her. I tried, but... I failed."_

_"TC, you didn't fail. You gave her time as a sparkling. Maybe not as much as you and I had, but enough that she will look back and remember it fondly, even vorns from now. I wish it could have been longer... but sometimes our lives don't go according to plan."_

_"I know," he replied wistfully. "All too well."_

_"We all know, TC. And I think that you did a wonderful job taking care of her. She loves you, and she's happy with you. I'm only sorry that I had to hide her from you."_

_"I'm not upset about that, Windblade. You did it to protect her. I can't be angry with you for wanting to do that. We... we all have to do what we feel is right, even if it isn't easy or painless."_

_There was a knowing smile in Windblade's voice now. "Why, I do believe my little co-creation has grown up."_

_"Heh... had to happen sometime, didn't it?"_

_"You'll always be my sparkling brother in my optics, TC. Thank you for everything. I love you."_

_"Love you too, sis. I miss you."_

_"Miss you too, bro. We'll meet again someday, though. Until all are one."_

_"Until all are one..."_

"Get up, lazy aft."

For a moment Thundercracker wondered why Windblade's voice had dropped an octave... then a foot to the torso reminded him rather rudely that he was back in the waking world, and in the brig no less.

"Get up!" huffed Vortex, kicking him again. "Megatron wants you!"

Thundercracker knew better than to talk back to the Combaticon - whatever he said, Vortex would choose to interpret it as sassing back at him and take gleeful advantage of the opportunity to pound him. He got to his feet, wincing at the lingering pain in his torso struts, and held out his hands for the waiting cuffs. Vortex gave a disappointed grunt before snapping the cuffs into place and giving the blue Seeker a shove in the back to get him moving in the desired direction.

Being paraded through the halls like a captured Autobot might have been slightly more tolerable had it not been for the audience - it seemed every soldier aboard the Nemesis had turned out to watch Vortex escort him to his fate. Decepticons lined the corridors like spectators witnessing a parade, their optics and visors fixed on him as he passed by. No one spoke, but the hateful glares most offered him said all that he needed to be told.

There was no sign of Glory in the crowd - an absence he wasn't sure was a good sign or a bad - but Skywarp and Swindle stood side by side near the doors to the throne room. Skywarp's faceplates were arranged into an unreadable mask, while Swindle looked genuinely worried. Was that sympathy the business-mech was showing? Or was he merely disappointed that a lucrative deal had fallen through? He doubted he'd ever find out, since he was fairly sure he was on his way to either his court-martial or his execution.

He was expecting to be taken to Megatron's office, so it came as a huge shock to Thundercracker when Vortex instead steered him into the throne room. Megatron rarely used the throne room aboard the Nemesis unless he had some kind of point to make. Most orders to his troops were giving in the briefing room or, if only one or two mechs needed to be briefed on the plan, his office. He preferred to save the throne room for ceremonial purposes, such as speeches or presenting medals (an extremely rare occurence aboard the Nemesis - as far as Thundercracker remembered it had only happened twice in the years they had been on this planet). His CPU scrambled wildly for a possible reason for this even as his cuffs were ripped off and he was shoved to the floor in front of the throne.

"The prisoner as you requested, Lord Megatron," Vortex boomed, an eager edge to his voice. Thundercracker tried to raise his head to look at his leader, but Vortex clamped a hand atop his helm and forced his optics down.

"Dismissed, Vortex," Megatron replied in a cold tone.

"Huh?"

"Did I stutter, you dolt? You're dismissed!"

"Sir, should I send the rest of the troops in?"

"If I had wanted an audience, I would have ordered one! Get out!"

Vortex whirled and hurried off. Thundercracker caught a bitter grumble from the Combaticon in passing - "Why would he have wanted the meeting in the throne room if he didn't want an audience..."

Thundercracker remained where he was, kneeling before the throne and his gaze fixed on the floor. Minutes ticked slowly by as he waited, expecting a tirade from his leader... or for the hiss of a plasma blast to end his existence. But neither occured, and the only sounds in the chamber were the faint whirr of both mechs' internal fans and the steady tick of Megatron's hand tapping a slow rhythm on the arm of his throne.

Finally, figuring that at this point he had little to lose, Thundercracker raised his head to look at his leader. The silver Decepticon regarded him with a mixed expression - anger mingled with deep disappointment.

"Of all the Decepticons in this base," Megatron rasped, "you were the last one I would have expected this stunt from."

"I'm deeply sorry, Lord Megatron..."

"I don't want your blasted apology," Megatron snarled, and he ceased the tapping and instead clenched the arm of the throne in a crushing grip. "You owe me an explanation for this, Thundercracker. You defied my orders, and worse, dragged others into your treachery. I will not stand idly by while my own soldiers plot dissent beneath my own olfactory sensors!"

_And yet you allow Starscream to keep his position among your troops,_ the blue Seeker thought bitterly. _Not to mention Astrotrain and Blitzwing... and didn't THEY drag others into their plots as well?_

He wisely kept those thoughts to himself, however. "I did what I felt was right, Lord Megatron. For everyone involved."

"Don't get self-righteous with me, Thundercracker. You knew from the beginning that Glory was to become a soldier. And yet when the time came for her upgrade, you resisted and defied me to keep it from happening. How is that 'best for everyone involved?'"

He offlined his optics, taking a moment to form his thoughts into the words that he hoped would mollify Megatron, or at the very least not upset him more than necessary. "She is still inexperienced. She has a basic knowledge of fighting tactics and self-defense, but little actual training. And when I questioned her, she was still reluctant to actually fight the Autobots - they scare her. If we were to make her a soldier, she would still be a frightened and untrained sparkling, just in a larger body and with weapons and abilities that she still doesn't know how to use responsibly. She would not only be a danger to herself, but to everyone around her, friend or foe. She would be more of a liability than she is now, for we would have to watch her constantly to ensure she didn't damage herself or an ally because of her lack of training. It was for her own safety, and the good of the troops, that I decided that it was better for her to leave the base than to receive her upgrade."

Megatron scowled. "That isn't the only reason, and you know it."

"Not the only reason," he confessed, "but it was a major factor. Yes, I knew she would be upgraded sooner or later, but I didn't think it would be so soon, and with such reckless disregard for her own safety and the safety of those around her."

Silence as Megatron resumed tapping the arm of his throne, seeming to ponder what Thundercracker had said. He rather doubted that his words would change his leader's mind at all, but at least the Decepticon leader hadn't offlined him instantly for speaking his CPU.

"Whatever your reason, it still does not excuse what you have done," Megatron said finally. "Whether or not you acted for the good of the Decepticons, you still acted against my direct orders. That cannot go unpunished."

"Understood, sir."

"You'll spend the next lunar cycle under room arrest," Megatron continued. "You will not be permitted to leave your quarters unless you require repairs or circumstances force us to evacuate the Nemesis. And you will remain on probation for one of this planet's years following your release." His optics narrowed. "The only reason your punishment is not harsher is because this is your first offense, and because I have need of every soldier in our war against the Autobots. If you defy me a second time, I will not be as lenient."

"Yes, sir." Well, at least that explained why Astrotrain and Blitzwing were still among the functional. Not so much Starscream, but then, Thundercracker doubted he'd ever understand why Starscream was still alive despite everything he'd done.

There was still one more matter in his CPU to resolve, however...

"Sir... what about Glory?"

Megatron frowned slightly. "Her upgrade has been postponed."

Thundercracker felt his entire frame sag in relief.

"Her training is to be accelerated," Megatron went on, either not noticing or not electing to comment on the Seeker's reaction. "In addition to her current classes, she is to undergo weapons training and flight classes. She will be outfitted with antigravs and taught how to use them. When she is deemed ready, she will undergo the upgrade to Seeker... and you WILL not interfere this time. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"You're dismissed," Megatron informed him. "Skywarp and Swindle will escort you directly to your quarters."

Thundercracker stood, a bit shaky on his legs, and walked out to meet his waiting escort. He had no idea if his words had done anything to change Megatron's mind, and at this point he didn't care. For just a little longer, Glory would be safe. And hopefully, the next time the Decepticon leader decided she was ready for her upgrade, she would truly be prepared for the transition to adulthood.

Skywarp and Swindle awaited him outside the throne room, and they fell in step on either side of him as he walked toward his quarters. The black Seeker made no move to speak to him, but Swindle offered a smile.

"So how'd it go?" he asked.

"I'm under room arrest for a month," Thundercracker reported. "And probation for a year after that."

"Ouch," Swindle winced. "So I take it the trip to Beta-Geode's cancelled?"

"What do you think?"

"Fraggit. This mean I can't expect the second payment?"

"Are credits all you think about, Swindle?" grumped Skywarp. "Primus, try to act concerned about someone other than yourself for once."

"Hey, the only reason I arranged this trip in the first place is for the kid's sake," Swindle retorted. "Why do you think I did it at such a low rate? Believe it or not, I have a spark."

"Yeah, but you'd sell even that if you thought you'd get a good enough price..."

"Okay you two, play nice," Thundercracker ordered.

Skywarp turned toward the blue Seeker with an inquiring look. "Did Megatron mention what's going to happen to Glory?"

"Her upgrade's being postponed," he replied. "But he's going to speed up her training."

Skywarp nodded. "When Glory freaked out in the medbay when Hook tried to start the upgrade process, I guess Megatron realized you were telling the truth about her not being ready. That horse of hers shredding half the repair bay trying to 'rescue' her probably didn't help things."

They stopped before the door of Thundercracker's quarters. He reached out to key open the door, but Skywarp put out a hand to stop him.

"Swindle, I've got it handled from here. Scoot."

"You could at least say please," grumped Swindle, but he left without raising any more of a fuss.

Thundercracker opened his mouth to ask what Skywarp wanted... but a fist impacting against his cheek plate answered his question. He staggered back, struggling to stay on his feet.

"That's for being an idiot," Skywarp informed him.

"I suppose I deserved that," Thundercracker muttered, touching his cheek to see if the blow had dented it at all.

"Talk to me next time, okay?" Skywarp's voice softened a touch. "There are other mechs who care about Glory here, you know. I would have helped you if you'd just asked, and we could have found a solution that didn't get your aft in hot oil with Megatron."

"I didn't feel there was time," Thundercracker confessed. "I just knew I had to do something, and fast."

Skywarp sighed. "I still think what you did was stupid, even if it was for Glory's sake."

"This coming from the king of stupid ideas?"

"Hey, I've at least got the experience to pull said stupid ideas off." He paused a moment, as if searching for the right words. "I'm sorry about how I acted the other day in the brig, TC. I guess I was still in shock that you, of all mechs, had gone against Megatron's orders. And upset that you'd done something so stupid in the first place."

"And upset that I didn't involve you in the plot?"

"There's that too. Doesn't excuse it, though..."

"Warp, don't worry about it," Thundercracker replied. "It's all right." To his surprise, he realized he spoke the truth. He and Skywarp had been friends for too long to let much come between them, and hearing Skywarp apologize for being an aft in the brig was enough for him to let it go.

"Thanks, TC." Skywarp finally allowed a grin to cross his faceplate. "Glad to see you made it out of there in one piece, at least. And since Megatron didn't revoke your guardianship over Glory, you must be in the clear there."

"Where is she, by the way? Everyone's been keeping me in the dark about that since I woke up in the brig..."

"In your room, waiting for you," Skywarp replied. "Swindle and I have been looking after her while you've been gone."

"She was with you all along? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Megatron's orders. He didn't want any information about her to reach you until he'd decided what to do with you. Maybe he thought you'd break out and try to take her again if you knew she was still as sparkling, I don't know. I'm not in his CPU."

"And aren't we grateful for that?" He reached out and thumped Skywarp's shoulder good-naturedly. "Thanks for everything. Guess I'll see you in a month."

"See you this evening, actually," Skywarp corrected. "Megatron assigned me to bring your fuel rations by and pick Glory up for lessons every day until your sentence is up. I'll keep you updated on what's going on outside, okay?"

"I appreciate that."

"Take care. Stay out of trouble."

"I will." He turned and keyed open the door.

A blur of silver and violet darted out of the room and wrapped itself around his legs. "Uncle T!"

"Glory!"

"Uncle T, I was scared!" she whined, clinging tightly like a space barnacle. "Skywarp said you were in the brig and the guards wouldn't let me visit..."

"It's okay, Glory," he assured, her, bending down to pry her off his legs. "I'm here now. That's the important thing."

She released his legs only to switch her grip to his neck, hugging against him as if afraid he was going to be taken from her. "Do I HAVE to get my upgrade, Uncle T? Megatron an' Hook were saying I had to..."

"No, Glory. They've decided you can wait awhile. You'll get it when you're ready, not before."

She nodded, reassured by his words. "I recharged in your berth while you were gone. Is that okay?"

"It's perfectly all right." He stepped into the room, letting the doors hiss closed and lock behind him. His sentence had begun.

"Uncle T, can you read to me tonight? Swindle started a new book for us while you were gone, but he doesn't do it as good as you do."

"I'd be happy to read to you, Glory." He set her down on his berth. "What book?"

She grabbed a datapad from the head of the berth and handed it to him. "Something about a human boy named Harry. It's got magic in it, it's cool!"

He laughed and took the pad, scanning through the text. "Remember where we left off?"

"Yeah, the giant just told Harry he was a wizard, and gave his cousin a tail!" She giggled and picked up Dragon, hugging him close while she waited.

For a moment Thundercracker just smiled at Glory, watching her and committing the image of her to his memory. This entire fiasco with Swindle and the neutrals hadn't been a total waste, it seemed. Not only had it bought Glory some much-needed time, but it had pressed home for the blue Seeker that his time with her was limited. She wouldn't be a sparkling forever, wouldn't be dependent on him for care and guidance indefinitley. And now that Megatron had ordered her training to be intensified, Thundercracker knew that it would be sooner, rather than later, that he would have to let her go.

But that day was not today. And he intended to make the most of whatever time he had left with her.

"C'mon, start reading!"

"Okay, okay," Thundercracker chuckled, skimming through the text until he found where Swindle had left off. "Chapter Five, Diagon Alley..."


	19. Epilogue

_Six months later..._

Home. After years of being stranded on Earth, the Decepticons were finally returning home.

Megatron had assembled his troops in the throne room to make the announcement, and the response was deafening. The news that they would be returning to Cybertron - hopefully to stay - ripped a roar of triumph and joy from every vocalizer. The cry disintegrated into excited chatter and babble as they continued to discuss this news, oblivious to Megatron's futile attempts to restore order. Mechs who ordinarily wouldn't have given each other the time of day hours before were embracing and clasping hands like old friends, eagerly discussing their plans for when they returned home. Even Soundwave, looming quietly behind his leader, thawed out enough at the news to applaud and begin playing a victory song.

Thundercracker finally broke away from Skywarp's overeager grip to find Glory, hoping she hadn't been trampled in the excitement. He needn't have worried. She was perched on Wildfire's back near the back of the room, waving her arms to catch his attention.

"We're gonna leave, Uncle T?" asked Glory.

"Tomorrow," he replied. "Tomorrow we go back to Cybertron. This time for good."

She gave an unsure smile. "Can we come back here to visit?"

"I don't know, Glory. That's up to Megatron."

"I kinda like it here," she confessed. "It's nice. And the oceans are cool." Then her smile widened and her optics shone eagerly. "But I wanna see Cybertron again!"

Idly Thundercracker wondered how much the planet had changed in the four million years they had been gone. He hadn't had much time to look around the past few times they had visited Cybertron on various missions. Perhaps he would have to let Glory give him a grand tour when they returned. He had to give an ironic chuckle at that. That was one area where Glory had more expertise than her uncle.

Over the past few months Glory had come far in her training. She was finally learning how to handle and shoot a blaster, though her aim still left something to be desired. She was also quickly picking up the art of unarmed combat from the Stunticons, and practiced her moves with the cassettes and against unsuspecting adults at every opportunity. (Starscream was still complaining about the dents left in his shinplates by one of her sudden attacks.) And to her uncle's delight, once she had gotten used to her new antigravs she had taken to the air as if she had been programmed for it from the very beginning... and perhaps that programming had indeed been inside her all this time, laying dormant until the time was right. Knowing Windblade, that was entirely possible.

Yet as much as her progress in her classes and lessons pleased him, it also filled him with dread. For he knew that Megatron was keeping a careful optic on her training, and as soon as he deemed her competent enough he would order her adult upgrade. And there was still that nagging part of him that wanted her to remain a sparkling forever. Logically he knew that wasn't possible, but it still didn't dispel that feeling of dread.

He pushed that thought to the back of his processor. Better to not dwell on it, he supposed. Best to just enjoy the time he had remaining with her, and keep fond memories of her as a sparkling in his memory banks.

"C'mon," he told her, lifting her off Wildfire's back. "Let's go get started packing."

It took them almost twenty minutes longer than normal to reach their quarters - Megatron's audience had abandoned him to kick up an impromptu party in the hallways, blasting music and passing cubes of high-grade around. Twice Thundercracker was forced to detour around a blocked corridor, and once both of them had been distracted by a growing crowd at an intersection, a gaggle of mechs gathering to watch an already-overcharged Ramjet challenge Brawl and Wildrider to a fistfight. At last, he pushed his way past a tipsy Swindle to key open the door to his room.

Glory kept up an excited stream of chatter as she gathered her toys, books, and drawings and stuffed them haphazardly into crates, recalling memories of home and giggling at the antics of the mechs they had passed on their way here. Thundercracker, by contrast, was quiet as he disassembled and packed his computer, sorted his datapads into their box, and mulled over what to take with them and what to leave behind. He wasn't much for material things, and within a matter of minutes he had finished packing his few possessions and opted to help Glory with her task.

Idly he recalled the day she had come here, carrying only her precious Dragon and a small case with the few possessions that had survived the attack on the labs. Quite a contrast with the half-dozen or so large crates they would have to carry out of here when they left in the morning, he thought amusedly. Starscream had constantly accused him of spoiling Glory, but he saw no harm in making sure she had plenty to entertain herself in her idle moments. Besides, Swindle had done far more spoiling than he had, if one wanted to get technical about it.

It took well over an hour, but finally everything was ready for departure in the morning. The room looked painfully bare now, with only the two recharge berths remaining. These would stay aboard the Nemesis - there would be berths for both of them when they returned to their base on Cybertron.

Cybertron. It still seemed so incredible that they were actually going home - and not for some wild gear-goose chase of a mission, but to stay. So much had changed since they had taken off on that fateful mission so long ago... and he had lost a great deal over that time. An unavoidable consequence of war, he supposed.

But he had gained a great deal in that time as well. And though he would mourn his sister's deactivation, and do all he could to honor her memory, he knew that even through that tragedy he had gained something of great worth.

Thumping at his door interrupted his thought processes.

"If it's you, Skywarp, don't bother me."

"Aren't you going to join us?" Skywarp demanded through the door. "Soundwave's completely plastered and the cassettes have got him breakdancing! You've gotta see this!"

"Nah, not tonight. Going to spend a little time with my niece."

"Your loss. I'll try to record it for ya, though."

"Have fun," Thundercracker replied, not knowing if Skywarp had stuck around to hear the farewell.

Glory chose that moment to yawn quite loudly, her vents pulling in air to cool her fatigued circuits.

"Ready for recharge, Glory?"

She nodded, leaning against him. "Sleep in your berth tonight?"

He laughed. "Just for tonight."

"Can Wildfire sleep with me?"

"There isn't room for three of us in the berth, sweetie."

She gave a disappointed sigh but didn't protest, and she didn't resist as he lifted her in his arms and lay her on the berth. He rested a careful hand on her back as she curled up on her side, her joints and servos relaxing one by one.

"Love you, Glory," he said softly.

"Love you Uncle T," she murmured sleepily. "Sing my song?"

He smiled and rubbed her back soothingly. _"It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside..."_

Thundercracker continued the song deep into the night, long after Glory had fallen into recharge, holding onto the moment as long as he could before sleep claimed him.

**Author's Note**

I never intended to actually write this story.

I was still heavily involved in writing Star Wars fanfic when the Transformers bug bit me back in late 2006, and though I fought it off for a long time, I finally caved and sought to learn more about these giant robots from outer space. And as I'm sure most people know by now, I was hooked pretty quickly, and Star Wars soon became a secondary obsession.

One thing I was curious about was how TFs create other TFs. The show's answer was logical, but fairly boring, and so I began looking around for a possible alternative. Bad idea. Let's just say I found out what MPREG meant...

So I came up with my own theory on how TFs could be made, one that still tied in with what the show said but still allowed for the possibility of children and family groups. And I was immediately beset by a plot bunny that seemed to come with a ready-made OC sparkling for the purpose.

Since I was still writing primarily Star Wars fanfic at that point, my first idea involved the Galactic Empire finding a Cybertronian escape pod containing several orphaned sparklings, and Darth Vader somehow being drafted into taking care of them. But I realized that idea was too ridiculous to pull off, and I revised it to the same group of orphaned sparklings being abandoned on Cybertron and struggling to survive on their own. Over time, though, that group of sparklings got whittled down to one... the little purple femme who would come to be called Glory.

Glory went through a name change before reaching the written page (her original name was Delta), but her personality remains much the same. And for some reason, I had planned from the very beginning for her to be Thundercracker's niece - not his daughter, but his niece. Strange, that...

I was reluctant to share Glory's tale at first, since I know "Mary Sues" get a bad rap in any fandom, and female and child characters are far more likely to be called Sues than other characters, I've noticed. I've been very relieved to see that Glory has been generally liked by those who have read her story, and am glad to see her turn into a decent character in her own right. I hope her progression as a character continues, and that she remains a believable and balanced character.

There's no real significance behind Glory's name, except that I've liked the name Gloria for awhile and wanted to use it or some variant of it in a story. Wildfire is named after a country-western song by the same name (thank you, Dead End...). I picked Windblade's name solely based on how cool it sounded, and Piston... I couldn't believe there wasn't a Piston already, so I had to use it. (Later found out there was a Piston in the Spotlight: Blurr comic. We'll just say mine's a different Piston...)

Glory's story doesn't end here, of course - there's still the inevitable tragedy coming up in her future when the movie happens. And there's her life during Season 3 to consider... So keep your eyes peeled for the sequel, "Glory and Honor," to be eventually written and posted.

Thank you everyone for reading this story, offering your input, and getting to know Glory with me. It's been an immense pleasure sharing her story.


End file.
